Point

TIJ

2010-03-14T13:26:00.004+08:00

"The six of you are all the same. All upper-middle class, all opinionated, very well-read, very opinionated, and very cute"

well, that's really not something I'm going to dispute since it's all complimentary.

"TIJ. You're at a shoot at 9 and everything is supposed to be set up, but TIJ."

My interpretation is rather different.

A jazz band singing Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Amigos Para Siempre' in a the foodcourt of a rather run down shopping mall. The guitar is a cool old man who rocks a mean solo. TIJ

A indie music joint in Blok M. The stage is a partially open-air island, the walls are draped in black fabric. Brilliant drinks for RM4 (blueberry, yoghurt, and guava love). Cigarette smoke and rain. The only people there when we enter is an old rasta dude and a younger rasta dude. The show started an hour late. TIJ.

In the old city, Batavia, kota tua. We get snuck into the former governor's house after closing hours (closing time is 4pm. TIJ) and our guide is an advocate for the restoration and promotion of the old city. On the ground floor of the governor's house there are 1 m high prison cells. There is also a shallow well which is caged up top. They used to put the worst offenders in there to die. The water only comes up to waist-level but it is leech-infested. The cannon on the grouns has a fist with the thumb inserted between the index and middle fingers as the pommel. This is equivalent to the present-day middle finger. They had a sense of humour back then too. TIJ.

Cafe Batavia in the old city is a throwback to colonial times. Fans turn slowly on the upper floor. Framed phtos of 1920s icons and advertisements line the walls. The clientele is mostly white, in their khaki pants and polo shirts and tourist cameras. TIJ.

I eat my toast spread with unsalted french butter and a smear of seville orage marmalade facing a burqa. The fabric is printed with the emblems of various Indonesian agencies and government institutions. It is suspended from the ceiling, the eye holes facing me. Birdsong accompanies breakfast. TIJ

On a Thursday afternoon in the office. In a single hour, the electricity got cut every 10-15 minutes. The airconditioning is shot for the day. Earlier in the day we came in to find the kitchen flooded. Overnight the kitchen faucet had shot through the cardboard ceiling and left water spewing everywhere. TIJ.

I do my clueless Chinese girl act in a bookstore. Tasked with finding a typical Indonesia-Chinese, I wind up talking to a MP who was on the special committee for the case I'm interested in. TIJ.

This is Jakarta

2009 - 2010

2009-12-29T13:41:00.002+08:00

Year ends are always difficult for me. The past few years have been especially trying and as I get older, things around me seem to get more complicated, more difficult to unravel.

2008 was filled with upheaval. Periods of stagnation interspersed with bad choices appears to have been the theme for this year.

I wonder about this job - it is beginning to bore me and I've been at it barely 6 months

I wonder about this country - should I remain here? How do I get away?

I wonder about this boy and that boy - mistakes I can't let go of

I wonder about the people I've lost touch with or pushed away - I've been remiss and in some cases, childish

So this is my apology to all. I'm sorry for the things I've done and the things that I haven't done.
I don't make New Year's resolutions but after 24 years without, maybe it's time to start.
For 2010, I will be more thoughtful and less proud. I will put more thought (or at least try to put more thought) into my actions before I go through with them. I will try to be more forgiving of others. I will try to understand more. I will put more effort into maintaining friendships.

Maybe. You know I'll probably say 'ef it all' tomorrow.

hmm...

2009-11-22T15:01:00.001+08:00

Dear Ivy League graduate, why are your sentence structures so awkward?

Jakarta: Take II

2009-10-29T14:00:00.000+08:00

Although my companion set out to show me the different types of transportation available in Jakarta, as opposed to the limited few available in KL, what really stood out was the size of informal sector. Roadside vendors, ojek, jockeys (government policy states that at peak traffic hours, cars must have at least 3 passengers including the driver. ‘Jockeys’ stand by the roadside before turn offs onto roads where the police enforce this policy to provide an extra passenger or two for a small fee), bajai drivers – all opportunities to make a living. While this could be linked to a lack of government efficiency in enforcing licensing regulations, this seems to be a deliberate move to allow the informal sector to flourish, and create much-needed jobs.

The sight of people sleeping under a bridge in the middle of Jakarta is sobering and fleshes out a conversation with him about corruption and the state of the country. He argues, like many, that corruption is the biggest problem Indonesia faces but also thinks its consequences are worse now than they were under Soeharto. He claims that under the New Order, at least the corrupt kept the money they obtained inside the country and uses Tommy Soeharto as an example – he gained from the country but also gave back to it, deliberately or not, by building factories and creating employment for Indonesians. The ‘new’ corrupt are different – they take and send it overseas to Singapore, Hong Kong, everywhere else. He argues that corruption is the source of most problems here, even the most minor ones. The traffic jam caused by the bus stopped haphazard in the middle of the road to pick up passengers is in turn caused by the police’s lack of action (they have been paid off or will be, the argument goes).

He says, ‘the rich get richer, the poor are getting poorer’ – I wonder if inequality is increasing. Rising GDP figures and tax revenue figures are well and good but they say little about the distribution of income, where the wealth is going. For all of SBY’s show & tell and conviction that Indonesia is in a different place and all the shiny new buildings dotting Jakarta, a lot remains to be done to actually make this a reality for a portion of the population. SBY may be serious about tackling corruption but until there is a clean judiciary and enforced punishments, it will remain pervasive and an obstacle to ‘development’.

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Some things are familiar. The traditional market near the office is similar to wet markets/ morning markets in KL and across Southeast Asia. Shopowners are mostly ethnic Chinese (the diaspora never fail to venture into business of some sort). The easy availability of food (always around the corner if not outside the door) reminds me of Bangkok more than KL.

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I notice that bookshops in Indonesia are dominated by books published in bahasa, both original works and translations of popular and classic English books. Along the shelf with bahasa-language history books, a name pops out. One of my professors at university who specialized in Indonesian history is here, in bahasa. The fact that the majority of books are in bahasa stands out to me (and also proves to be an inconvenience for the reader seeking an English-language book on Indonesian history, Soeharto, Golkar, etc, although it also led us to a brilliant secondhand bookstore at the Jakarta Art Center). In comparison, the Malaysian publishing industry is tiny.

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The next night five of us take a bus to find dinner – ‘Nasi kucing’, so-called for the small amount of rice bundled with a tiny nugget of fish or other savoury/spicy condiment. She tells me this is student fare but it is also popular with other market segments in Jogja, depending on the location of the cart. Normally, the people at a ‘angkringan’ would be mostly strangers and they strike up conversations about politics, current events, and other topics of interest, for strangers to exchange ideas, she puts it. But today the group of us takes up the entire cart and there is no one else there when we arrive. It is only as we leave that some people come along.

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

The Friday lunch hour crowd makes it impossible to hail a taxi and we board an angkot for part of the way back to the office. Our fellow passengers in the rickety bus appear to be from the middle-classes, likely on their ways back to the office after lunch.

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Civil liberties and social norms in the two countries are the main differences to the ones who have spent some time in Malaysia. One points out the park outside the office as a place where young couples like to meet – “they can date and even kiss openly here, not like in Malaysia”. Another, warning one of the researchers of what to expect in KL says “Malaysians are very scared… they have the ISA…. People are scared of one another, Bangladeshis, etc… crime is high”. This reminds me of the hotel driver I spoke to the first time I arrived in Jakarta – he observed that Malaysia was better off economically, but also mentioned that it had the ISA, something Indonesia hadn’t had since Soeharto’s era, 10 years ago. There is the underlying thought that in this sense at least, Indonesia is ahead of us.

old ghost

2009-08-31T16:11:00.003+08:00

I do not like hearing from you. After the initial surprise wears off, it messes with my head and my concentration.

"I'll wait for you"
but for what?

"I miss you"
do you now? which part?

I'm exhausted from the weekend and most of all from thinking about you. Work.
You're the addiction I need to break

hello again

2009-08-04T21:47:00.002+08:00

My demon is not a small furry creature that wraps itself around my legs. Nor is it a monster the size of two men. It doesn't whisper evil suggestions in my ears, it doesn't twist me to its will like so many little fragile tendrils. It's nothing that insidious.

It is a shape-shifter, this one.
A certain quality of light
a close friend
a sudden breeze
a memory of insignificant events
a road
a season
a song in my head

It's my siren, singing her deadly song, only I don't know if she's leading me forward or pulling me back. I cover my ears but it pierces flesh and echoes in my head. I turn away but I still feel her inexorable pull.

interruption

2009-06-07T22:35:00.003+08:00

On the way back from ipoh I watched an amber moon play hide and seek behind the clouds.

This isn't a chapter 3. I intended to record my memories of Sydney here, not every last detail/day (that would get boring) but the most memorable and significant little moments, medium-sized events et cetera. But as the days wore by and the weeks plodded along, the urgency I felt immediately following my return faded. This isn't surprising. Memories get worn around the edges and begin to fray. Which is why I wanted to record them before they faded - because I know they will and I wanted to have something ready to hand to remind me - press refresh.

But now, and maybe this is because time has passed, I am content to just let it be. I don't feel the urge to record right now and the words won't come. So consider this an indefinite pause on that project. If a Chapter 3 comes, it comes. If it doesn't, that's fine too. Because sometimes not recording and just allowing it to fade is, upon reflection, as it should be. They aren't lost. They will just remain wherever they choose to be. And in those rare moments when they flash into my head, the way these memories do, the rarity of the occasion will make them precious.

-----------------------------------
Effective immediately, I am taking a break from non-essential human contact. I need to withdraw. People are beginning to wear me down again.

Chapter 2

2009-05-06T10:35:00.001+08:00

I remember the kitchen in my uncle's house.

I had rented a room from a crotchety old woman my first two months in Sydney. It was the first time she'd let out a room and had too rules on what I could and could not do, too many things to say, too many idiosyncrasies for me to bear. So I moved out and stayed with an uncle for a couple more months. The next session, I moved into the apartment and stayed there.

The house itself looked shabby and small from the outside. But inside, it was comfortable and felt lived-in. The living room was perpetually dark because of the heavy curtains but the kitchen and the rooms facing the downward slope behind the house were full of light. The kitchen was my favourite part of the house (the bathroom, with its heat lights and angular bath, came a close second, especially when it got colder). It had wooden floor planks and a large blonde wood table in the center. I spent my Saturday mornings at that table, poring over the weekend edition of the SMH in a quiet house. My uncle was hardly around, which suited me well, and Saturday mornings were no exception.

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

My first morning in Sydney after a 4 month absence was sunny-beautiful. I woke up early that morning with a not-quite heavy heart, but a rather weighted one nevertheless. The strange feeling I had the night before still lingered and even now I can't quite describe it. It was slightly surreal, but then everything remembered takes on that quality. Possibly a cross between deja vu and jamais vu, although that doesn't at first glance make sense. It was that feeling of familiarity and comfort mingled with displacement and dispossession. This sensation never really went away during the trip, but it was the strongest those first few days living in the old flat.

Stepping out into the morning sun dispersed the sensation. It was only 10am but already the light was intensely bright (that rhymes!) without the suffocating humidity and heat that envelopes the tropics. How orientalist that sounded. It was exceptionally warm for mid-autumn, something I realized a few days later when the weather returned to normal. But that day was perfect.

It had rained early in the morning and the ground was still slightly damp. I remember smiling at the warmth on my legs from the sun, practically glowing at just being there and walking the familiar path to uni. The thing about being absent from a place is how much you forget in the interim, both the good and the bad. I had forgotten so much: the way those fig-like fruit crushed on the walkway perfume the air with their sweet, pungent scent, how bracingly crisp the air is there, the smell of cut grass drifting in from the racecourse. Sensory overload.

Chapter 1

2009-04-27T18:25:00.003+08:00

Have you ever read 'Hopscotch', by Julio Cortazar? I picked it up from the library a few years ago after a recommendation from a lecturer who specialized in Latin America. It is a curiously structured book that you can choose to read conventionally (Introduction is followed by chapter 1 is followed by chapter 2 and so on until you get to chapter 155) or unconventionally (chapter 1 is followed by chapter 37 is followed by chapter 102 is followed by chapter 9 until you finish all of them - there is a line at the end of each chapter suggesting which page to turn to next, not the one which follows numerically). It is a brilliant idea, to let the reader assemble the story as s/he will, and to have it fit at the same time is masterful. I digress.

Monday.
I watched as many movies as I could stomach on the plane, as I always did. Put on my face in the cramped, slightly disgusting airplane bathroom because I refuse to look a mess getting off. The queue through immigration is unusually long, and slow. Collect baggage. Queue again to get through customs with my white card and passport in hand. The official checking the ticked boxes on the card waves me through and for the first time, after countless struggles with getting heavy bags onto the x-ray machines for 4 years, I get a free pass.

He was waiting in the arrivals hall. No surprises there. Those came later. The usual exchange of pleasantries follows, how long have you been here, sorry to keep you waiting, work-talk, accept compliment, weather-talk. Kingsford Smith has a new addition to its infrastructure - a multi-storey travelator in the carpark. It is on the travelator that he surprises me first, although I can't say that I wasn't half-expecting it. Oh the uncertainty, always the uncertainty! I think that's what gives me, us both, the rush. That potent mixture of fear, anticipation, uncertainty, defiance.

There was a light drizzle that night. The roads from the airport to my place were the same as I remembered, semi-familiar landscapes.

Later, I found myself in a room that had been mine but now wasn't. Almost everything seemed the same - the same furniture, the same people (at least the two who were around), the absolute silence of the apartment. It was a strange feeling, being somewhere that had been a home. Another curious thing was the lack of emotion I felt. I was sorry for him and would have done anything to help, but not angry or hurt or any of the hundred things someone in that situation could have been. How complicated human relationships get and how much they can change with time. But then, this was never a solid matter to begin with.

Introduction

2009-04-26T17:42:00.003+08:00

I'm back

I know I was only there for 12 days, but those 12 days seem both like a lifetime and a blink of an eye. Where to begin?

To begin with, 12 days was too short. In between meeting up with friends and shuttling the family around, I didn't get half of what I'd wanted to do done. Despite my best efforts, I missed out on going to the beaches (too cold), seeing the Botanic Gardens properly (too big), taking the ferry from circular quay to anywhere, taking the train anywhere, digging through the library for books (definitely not enough time. and it's being rearranged. again.), and taking a full walk through uni. In retrospect, I would have needed a month to be even remotely satisfied.

I did however manage to make it to the Opera Bar after dark, to the art gallery for a final(?) visit, to David Jones food hall (where I found my sister looking staggered by the sheer amount and variety of food available - "I need help... can we stay here all day?"), to the fish market for seafood and the best oyster I've had (ever) to catch up with Duncan over coffee (and listen to him complain about his 1st and 2nd year students. and to be amazed once again at how much he has achieved by 30), to walk along the racecourse from my old flat to uni on a beautiful, sunny-sweet day (after a not-quite-dark-but-far-from-bright-night), and, most importantly, to laugh, listen, reminisce.
I also graduated (officially), which was quite fun.

A lecturer once told me not use a sentence as a paragraph. He was right. But this isn't an essay or an article.

Does that count as a start? I certainly hope so.

in an anonymous cafe

2009-04-11T11:07:00.003+08:00

dear family at the next table,
nothing says illbreeding quite like staring. i hope you take this into account while raising your toddler because you have clearly missed the boat with your teenagers.
love,
jeen

random but not

2009-04-06T19:37:00.004+08:00

Somewhere in my head space, there is a gallery of sorts where I have stored the most important, most intense, most unforgettable moments in my life. They aren't memories of events, but brief moments in time - maybe a second or five, rarely more. Most of them are solitary, few have other people around, and even less have other people occupying more than incidental positions.

One or two are chance sightings of something unexpected and beautiful. I remember catching a glimpse of the opera house with the evening light glinting off it while I was on the train pulling into circular quay station. I happened to look up for the briefest second and was struck by the sight. That was one of the things that made me love Sydney.

There are a few that I remember and keep deliberately for the sense of peace and fulfillment I felt then. When I was backpacking through Vietnam and Cambodia a few years ago, we stopped in the mountains for a night or two. I remember a breakfast of the sweetest mangoes I have ever eaten, purchased the day before from a street vendor and chilled in the mini-bar overnight, and hot, strong, Vietnamese coffee at a tiny cafe/house. I could want for nothing more.

There are a couple of moments that maybe I would forget if I could but cannot because they are ones which make my heart ache for what might have been but was not.

And then there are those that are so intense, the first time they arise unbidden, I shudder involuntarily. During a lag in the conversation, or a quiet moment, the memory of these moments almost consumes me and transport me away to a different place and time.

If I were to try and count them, the sum of these moments might number less than my fingers. I don't know because I cannot count them - I get confused as to which are and which aren't - but I suspect that they are that few and far in between. It's odd, but most if not all of them happened elsewhere. Maybe life here is too familiar for anything to hold that much significance for me. Or maybe I'm not meant to live in my birth country.
I should just be a nomad.

sydney shopping list

2009-04-06T13:15:00.002+08:00

strictly food-related, this one

harissa
truffle paste
olives
dark chocolate
tahini (if its cheaper there)
maldon salt or murray river salt
jams! strawberry and champagne, sour cherry, plum

crunch

2009-04-01T17:21:00.001+08:00

is the sound stupidly healthy, borderline tasteless pretzel crisps make as I try to keep from falling asleep at my laptop

nyik

2009-03-30T17:10:00.003+08:00

I have a confession to make.
I am a language snob. Unless the writer is someone I know personally, bad writing sends me running. Or squawking. If I cannot comprehend a paragraph, not because it's been written GGMarquez-Autumn of the Patriarch-style but because it is fragmented, incoherent, or just downright rubbishy, I'll close the page and never go back. Okay, I might open it again once in a while to see if it's still bad but then I'll shudder and kick myself again.
There really isn't a point to this post, I just felt like complaining.

Oh, and S offered to pick me up from the airport when I arrive on the 13th. I don't know. April is a day away and it's making me fidgety.

whatever. time to scour the web for information again.

thunk

2009-03-13T20:17:00.003+08:00

it's done! and it's taking 5 minutes for the report to get sent through gmail

musical chairs

2009-03-12T18:21:00.003+08:00

My dogs treat me like a piece of furniture. One walks over me repeatedly - back and forth and back and forth again - before settling his heavy ass on me if I'm sitting on the floor. Just now both of them tried to climb onto my lap at the same time, while I was seated on a chair, working on my laptop.

I don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight. 35 more pages to go before I can compile the whole damn report and arrange and edit it.

Also, I just turned down a job offer from the first job and interview I went for. It would be more sane, but it still sounds boring. And they took what, a month? to get back to me. Harumph.

Also, I love the way the rain smells grassy and damp and heavy :)

gargle blah poo

2009-03-04T00:31:00.002+08:00

i take it back >(
see I was just about done at 7 when they sent me an urgently needed 10 page document - 'can you handle this?'
like i'm going to say no!
blargh
i don't like not having the time to shower and eat!!

hustle

2009-03-03T10:25:00.002+08:00

I'm happiest when I have a tonne of work to do and deadlines to meet. Unfortunate, but true sometimes.
Today I have:
the usual media coverage
2 reports in Indonesian to translate, edit and restructure
and then, when all that is done, research! corporate dirt-digging! fun :)

in passing

2009-03-02T10:30:00.002+08:00

1. I'm really looking forward to April.
I got an email from Duncan about attending my graduation ceremony and it made me miss the smallest things about Sydney.

2. Does last week count as a seven day week?
It sure felt like it. And I know I can expect more of the same this week.

3. I actually enjoy the info-digging thing
so long as I don't think about the ethical aspect of it.

4. steely blue nails *love*

campbells tomato soup

2009-02-16T14:48:00.006+08:00

Now. You know I've been toying with the idea of adopting a sustainable, organic, local, and ethical diet, which thus far I have yet to follow through on simply because it requires conscious effort and I am lazy. However, after reading this article, I am seriously considering throwing all canned and processed foods out with the trash. Or at my sister when she's in bitch mode.

The problem for me is not so much the fact that the curry powder or cinnamon I use may have bug bits in them - after all, a little bit of dirt is healthy, sterile food is bad for the immune system and all that - but that, as the writer asserts, "we don't really know what we're putting into our mouths". For all the ingredient lists and ticks from regulatory agencies on food packaging, we don't actually know much about what is inside that microwave meal. Chances are, tongue-twisting chemicals and plant/ animal derivatives couched in scientific terms make up half the list, obscuring the true nature, sources, and usage of these 'ingredients'. And by extension, the effects they have on your physical and mental self. More disturbing than this is that the use of these ingredients/ chemicals is approved by the agencies (USFDA being the no. 1 culprit) we look to for nutritional guidance.

The verdict: cut down (if entirely eliminating is not possible or practical) on packaged and processed foods.
Sigh

gasp

2009-02-14T16:45:00.000+08:00

I LOVE green nails!

midnight munchies

2009-02-04T00:27:00.002+08:00

hey.... they didn't scrap the little packet of seasoning in Mamee noodles after all. They just don't include them inside the individual packets. How do I know this? I'm awake at midnight once again because that's the only time of day (night) my intellectual brain is actually malleable enough for me to push in less frivolous directions. And I woke up from my pre-work nap hungry. Say what you will, but coffee + carbs + MSG saves the day.

:)

CNY excerpts and then some

2009-02-03T00:04:00.004+08:00

she pored over my palm
"hmm... your fortune is exactly like mine. Lots of broken relationships"

"KL boys are such dufuses. Or gay"

"so she's thinking of turning it into a novel, with gung gung's death and the big secret as the finale"

"DIDI! get off the car"

on to the news:
2 weddings (both in July, both in Sg. Consider yourself forewarned-forearmed)
2 jobs (fine, one is a 2 month research project I'm supposed to be working on from today. the other starts proper in April (May hopefully))
Sydney in April. I'll be there for a few days before the hurricane of a family hits.

A close friend sent me a piece on solitude after he found out that I actually enjoy it. I was on one of my KL diatribes, all loathing and nostalgic for Sydney and he asked me what I missed there that was absent here. Solitude ranked quite highly. Other, less mentionable factors went unspoken. And I forgot to say that I felt more fully of myself there than I did back here. That only occurred to me in the taxi.

new modem

2009-01-22T16:36:00.004+08:00

did you catch it? did you catch it?

fine, so this is a day or two late but Barack Hussein Obama is now no. 44. Leader of the free world and all that. I'm not American, nor do I usually want to be, considering what the country has been through the past decade or so (can you say Bush?), but since this guy clinched the Democratic nomination I have had to grudgingly admire (and envy) Americans for the mobility their society affords to its best and brightest.

On to more pedestrian topics, CNY is around the corner. I can already feel its fiery breath in my skull as the heat takes over. Why does it never/ hardly ever rain during Chinese New Year? Did the astrologers who set the date manipulate the weather so to add to the suffering of celebrants? I've been reading too much sci-fi. I've read almost everything else in the bookcase and it is unfortunately addictive. No hidden meanings or moral preachings, pure entertainment. Much like watching E! but with no epilepsy-inducing flashes. I digress. CNY. Right. Anyway the whole thing must be messing with my head and twiddling with the little knobs which control my internal soundtrack. To give me Damien Rice. Not even new stuff, but the 2003 album. Freak. Depressing stuff.

You know that strange sensation where it feels like a lot of time has passed or a lot of things have happened in a short period of time but you can't actually place your finger on what has happened and you can't even say if anything has happened but you feel as if it has? I'm sure there's a phrase for it, but I don't know what it is.

[back in 5-6 days]

pax?

2009-01-18T12:40:00.002+08:00

Israel has declared a cease-fire. Now, I've been rethinking my position on the conflict - although I do not condone the severity of the war waged by the Israelies, I do understand their reasoning.
more after lunch

almost end of the week update

2009-01-17T11:19:00.003+08:00

I have been lazy. Forgive me?

So here's what I've been up to this week:

sent out summaries of research findings (finally)
- sent copies of thesis to participants who made requests
- received request from city council to present findings at a mini-workshop (! hahahaha)

applied for first job, wednesday 11am
- received call from company, wednesday 3pm
- phone interview
- second interview friday morning (blah, job not as interesting as I thought it would be)
- to know in a week or two if I got through to the third and final interview

finally bought clothes in KL
- topshop dress (that takes care of CNY)
- basic shorts

finally got a hair cut

And in between all of this, the usual going out, getting high, and a smidge of baking. I like KL best at night. You can't see the filth and the riff raff then. The lights wink at you as the car passes through the city, denizens of the city slave away in their little high rise cubicle-prisons.

Bright lights, city nights. Stay in the car, turn off the lights.

I read this some days ago and meant to link it but forgot: on kindness
food for thought. and something to aim for.

move aside metafilter

2009-01-11T16:14:00.001+08:00

because viceland is my new favourite site. go. now. thank me later.

hargh

2009-01-10T20:37:00.004+08:00

As far as awkward family dinners go, that took the cake.

Not a word exchanged between the two in the car, through dinner, and on the way back. Jesus effing christ.

In the meantime, I'll entertain myself by choking and hacking my throat out.

homecoming

2009-01-05T10:38:00.003+08:00

A number of things.

I've been finding it difficult to make my usual observations about the things and people surrounding me - strangers, acquaintances, atmospheric descriptions etc. Something about this particular environment makes it difficult for me to turn my gaze outwards. I find it especially difficult to empathize with the people I see here, something which is compounded by the fact that this weather is inconducive to long walks and public transport here is the shits. So I sit in the rarefied and filtered air of a car, in a little bubble that isolates me from the outside. Like almost everyone else in this country. No wonder we are so antagonistic to one another. Each one of us alien, each one of us the other. (ref. to Foucault and Arnold for more on the gaze, Said for the other)

There's this strange sensation that dogs me here. This is home, I know it to be home. But it feels like I've stepped or been forced out of my skin here. It is, but it isn't. Theorizing about this in the shower has led me to believe that it stems from the fact that this place and this house is home not by choice and not because I have made it so but purely because I happened to grow up here. I had little say in this. It is home by default. In contrast (I know, I know. I'm romanticizing the past.) I had an active role in making myself a home in Sydney. That was a deliberate choice - taking four years away from this place, to assimilate in Sydney and to submerge myself completely in a different place, culture (hate using the word and stereotype of 'culture' but I'm too lazy to find the right one), maybe identity. Two homes - one passively so, the other made as such. How now brown cow?

While I'm on the subject of different experiences in the same locale conditioned by ethnicity, I remember talking with D about how each of us experienced Sydney and Malaysia respectively. D found Malaysia hospitable, fascinating, and contradictory. People were unfailingly nice to him here, more so than in Sydney. The dysfunction of government and everyday life in this neck of the woods was a sometimes refreshing change from the usual. In contrast, I found greater hospitality and openness in Sydney. The way everything ran like clockwork without ever seeming hurried there charmed me. Maybe the two experiences were that of outsiders. He, as the 'mat salleh' visiting a postcolonial country, experienced a culture eager to please the white man. I, as the untypical Asian in a country of migrants both established and recent, experienced - what exactly, I still don't know.

April is still months away but I can't wait to return. I'm considering doing what E did and returning a week before my family comes. But for different reasons. I want the chance to be in the city alone one final time, as I so often was these four years but especially the last 6 months. I want to see it alone, without people to usher around the sights. Ride the familiar bus routes, walk my favourite tours of the city. Surprisingly or not, I enjoyed the solitude. And the freedom that came with it.

2009-01-04T01:11:00.002+08:00

i keep trying to see if my pupils are dilated but i get confused cause they do seem to turn into saucers when i lean into the mirror but i also know that they dilate to take in more light to adjust to different focal points. see - coherent. still. night.

grunt

2009-01-02T19:59:00.002+08:00

Woke up after a late afternoon nap. Scrambled eggs for dinner cause there's nothing in the fridge. Add truffle salsa. Open the chewed-up newspaper. And 'gong xi gong xi gong xi ni' goes off in my head. Fuck me.

day 4-5

2008-12-31T09:54:00.002+08:00

This just in: an accident?

and Toro tried to drink my coffee again

day 3-4

2008-12-30T10:05:00.004+08:00

to wake up to more news of the Israelies intent on bombing the life out of Hamas (and any tiny unlikely reservoirs of good-will the cease-fire created) and marshalling the rest of the Mid East (maybe not Egypt) against them. Can you say disproportionate retaliation? And of course, international condemnation means nothing to Israel since big brother is standing behind it.
Several things to think about:-
i. the obvious humanitarian crisis - access to already limited medical supplies and basic goods, thanks to the blockade in place prior to the most recent raids compounded by the bombing of the Gaza-Egypt tunnels
ii. more regional instability - not just Israel-Arab, but also Sunni-Shiite
iii. Hamas' status & future - not just as terrorist organization but also an arguably legitimate government
iv. WTH, Olmert and Barak? Is this a way to redirect internal politicking to an external enemy - Feb 2009 elections
v. UN Security Council and the UN as a whole - its actual capacity to broker peace and exert influence in the shadow of the US (again)

Ugh, I should stop monitoring the news.

-click-

2008-12-30T01:41:00.000+08:00

If you haven't seen it yet, check out the NY Times slideshow of the year in pictures.
A picture paints a thousand words - go to the politics slideshow, bear with the slow loading time (gracias Streamyx), and compare the shots of Obama (a sliver of light falling on his smiling face in profile, American flag in the background), McCain (1. his back to the camera, talking to a small crowd and juxtaposed against a portrait of what might be an early parliamentary session or the founding fathers etc. 2. being interviewed, a dim yellow light on him and his wife, looking tired and slightly baffled as if he's thinking 'why would I want to lead this party?'), Clinton (1. in profile, framed bya white screen against the setting sun, 2. her feet, flanked by Chelsea on the left and Bill, looking rhapsodic on the left, 3. bending awkwardly, smiling forcedly), Palin and McCain (standing next to each other, looking in oppsite directions).

It's easy enough to understand the message each of the 160 pictures convey (I'm only up to no.39 now, again, thank you Streamyx). Obama as ray of hope, saviour. McCain as isolated maverick (hehehe.. Palin, Tina Fey.. hehehe) surrounded on all sides, Clinton clownish and pushed on by 42, Palin the joke, revitalising and polarising force. Brilliant and evocative (even if biased) photography from the Times photographers as always.
And however Obama handles the next four years to come, he cuts an elegant figure as president-elect.

disgruntlement

2008-12-28T17:47:00.005+08:00

Ipoh was good. I didn't overload on food this time around. The new house is gorgeous.

I miss the still of the silence, as you breathe out I breathe in

Thoughts of S have been echoing in my head for the past few days now. I wake up aching and wishing that life wasn't over, impossible as it was.

come on get higher and loosen my lips

It doesn't help that he appears to have a sixth sense about when I'm thinking about him, about us even if there never really was an 'us'.

pull me down hard

I wonder - are you unsatisfied that I didn't show interest in seeing you before I left? You were lucky - given enough sleep, I woke up in a good mood and sleep addled enough to answer your call.

I miss the pull of your heart, I taste the sparks on your tongue

But somehow, maybe I have too much time on my hands, maybe this maybe that, memories of the two of us together keep playing in my head. In the car, in the middle of conversations and meals, in bed before sleep.

I see angels and devils and god when you come

Everything I can remember of the conversations we had in bed, in your car, over coffee. Secrets, problems, the past and the future but never the present. The little admissions you forced out of me.

So enough already dear head

if I could make you believe, make you forget

mumble mumble grumble

2008-12-27T07:11:00.002+08:00

this is because little miss E is complaining about the lack of posts. so here's what's been going on the past few weeks. pre-caffeine at that, no less (see what I do for you!)

1. KL irritates the life out of me. It's like having a fat, painful blister between your toes, chipping nail polish, boy problems, split ends, and being in a constant state of hunger all at the same time. Times ten. The general lack of civility, intelligence, eye candy, etc gets to me.

2. I'm off to Ipoh today for an overnight eating trip with the usual suspects. Which is the only reason I'm awake this early.

3. When I'm not half-heartedly browsing the online job sites (really don't know what I want to do now. fuck.), I'm cooking stuff, eating stuff, going out, bumming, or day dreaming. Still haven't sent out a summary of my research findings, mainly because I've been too lazy to look it over and send it off.

4. I'm trying to shrug off the attentions of not one but two of my idiot male friends (one of whom is the one you helped by giving out the Syd address) gently but firmly. Not easy. I might have to outright ignore them for a month or so. I don't know. Give me coffee.

5. The dogs are as psychotic, clever, dufus-ish, and adorable. Didi acts like a human and has the intelligence of at least a 5 year old child - she knows how the gates and doors open/ latch.

6. I'm hungry now. Time for a caffeine shot. More when I get back. Happy? Twit, I blog more than you do.

8600km

2008-12-26T10:36:00.002+08:00

It's both funny and terrible that even as my memories of him fade and blur, memories of you remain - persistent and complex.

home

2008-12-21T21:20:00.001+08:00

I'm Sydney-sick.

zzz.. ZZT

2008-12-18T17:39:00.004+08:00

For two or three nights in a row now I've been having the strangest, most perverse dreams. Now I'm not going to bore you by giving a blow by blow account of the different dreams so I'll just say that they're very Sade (the Marquis, not the popular singer) and Bataille-esque. Really disruptive and disturbing. Although I don't put much weight in dreams (my explanation is that they are your brain's way of making sense of random neurons firing. see what I do with a bit of PSYC1001? shoo Freud) these are bugging the life out of me because for one, I almost never remember my dreams - all this year dreams have evaded me, making for very good sleep, even during the most turbulent periods - and for two, these bizzaro scenarios keep waking me up with a jolt in the middle of the night, making it difficult for me to get back to sleep. And when I do manage to drift off again, it's only to have another disturbing dream. Which shocks me back into the waking, middle of the night world.

I'm not loving this. And I'm not going to narrate the dreams either. The last thing I want to do is to delve into my subconscious mind or even my brain's chosen method of decoding random neuron movement. thbbpt

sometime in July/ August

2008-12-11T15:03:00.000+08:00

I got on to the first bus to Central passing through Surry Hills. It was packed with a mish mash of commuters. Slightly dozey after my meal, I allow my thoughts to drift along unfocused, observing the people around me, the PDAs of the young couple a few feet down amusing me. A minute or so in, a man sitting opposite me catches my eye. He seems to be sharing my thoughts and smiles quietly at me. Caught off guard, the corners of my mouth curve upwards ever so slightly. I look away, slightly embarrassed, only glance back seconds later and find him still smiling at me. This continues for several minutes, each time our smiles widen until we’re almost laughing together 4 feet apart. All this without saying a word. I like the fact that he doesn’t appear to be undressing me mentally and it’s a pure expression of friendliness. A shared if silent joke. The passengers around us are eyeing the two of us curiously and the old man next to him looks at us as if we are crazy. The bus reaches its final stop and I rush off first. There are too many things going on in my life as it is. It’s time to slip back into city mode and I walk quickly. Armour up.

whirligig

2008-12-08T17:20:00.000+08:00

KL makes my head whirl. wheeee.....

day 4

2008-12-08T13:31:00.004+08:00

It's funny being back here. It's like I've slipped into a time warp or into an alternate universe where people still act a particular way. Slightly awkward conversations that skim around the subject, people hinting at emotions I really don't want them to have. Ugh. Must we do this again? It feels unfamiliar. Unsubtle hints instead of head on admissions. How do you head these things off, I forget.
Asian sensibilities will be the death of me. snark.

thursday morning

2008-12-04T05:43:00.000+08:00

I haven’t been able to stop sneezing since I woke up. Preemptive allergy kicking in. Hatchoo!

It’s a strange feeling, looking around this room – walls bare, table cleared, shelves empty. It occurred to me last night as I wiped the walls of the room that it was partially symbolic as well as a physical act; rubbing away the borders that form around posters and papers stuck on a surface but also erasing all traces of myself from these four walls, removing a life. It’s all gone now; packed up into suitcases, in boxes crossing the ocean, thrown out as trash.

“Come back to KL, your life is here”

True, my life is there. But I have had many lives, one of which has been here.

These four walls have borne witness to this life. Here I have laughed, cried, fallen in love, fallen out of love, raged, mourned, celebrated, fucked, fought. It is possible that I have lived more fully here than anywhere else, fraught as this life has been with demons, sometimes of my own design. This past year particularly has been rich in experiences and challenges. Compared to 2008, 2005 through to 2007 was a breeze. Smooth sailing indeed. You know how they say you grow in spurts and not in continuous smooth motion? This year has seemed like a spurt to me. Maybe it has been and maybe my judgement is currently clouded by the proximity of it. I wouldn’t be able to put my finger on any changes if I tried. We will see.

In an hour I’ll go to uni for the last time to hand over my keys and to return some books. C is coming over at 1 to send me to the airport. This is really it, the last day here.

I don’t expect this to be easy with KL being what it is and me being who I am. That place has always stifled me and having been away these four years has made it seem ever more oppressive with each holiday back. This time it won’t be a holiday, it will be the return to that life, or the start of a different one. Whichever it is, it will be different from this.

tug

2008-12-03T06:44:00.006+08:00

I'm spending the day packing up the last many bits lying around my room. The people from the shipping company are coming in another hour or two to pick up the two boxes of books and miscellaneous items. Everything else which can't fit into my luggage is going to be left behind until April.

I'm already compiling a list of places to visit in April. La Perouse for the fish and chips I had yesterday, easily the best I've had in memory (which might not be saying much considering my memory storage but it was good), bills, mundo gelato, ichi ban boshi (maybe).

I feel like yanking out every last blonde/ copper hair on my head. They are bugging me today. Who messed with my follicles?

should i buy this dress?

2008-12-01T07:19:00.005+08:00

Brunch at bills turned into lunch at Pancakes. Undercaffeinated, I forgot that the 372 didn't pass through Foveaux and we had to walk up Crown. And when we got there the wait for a table turned out to be 20 minutes. Hungry people don't like to wait. Even if it's for creamy scrambled eggs. And I still hadn't had coffee so it seemed like taking the bus to Circ Quay would take less time. So Pancakes it was, for eggs benedict with a buttemilk pancake instead of toast. (Btw, I decided that if, IF forced to choose a single cuisine to eat from, I would choose all day breakfasts. Yes, I know it's not a cuisine per se, rather a subsection of one but it's perfect! Eggs any way, pastries, pancakes, bacon, sausages, toast, tomatoes, mushrooms, coffee, juice, and table loads of other stuff - all good. My cousin would go Japanese, which would be my second choice.)

Erm. Where was I?

At the Rocks market:
squeek! cold!
"Can you imagine if I hadn't been standing in front and you went 'eee! cold!' to a stranger?"
I wandered off to stand in a patch of sunlight. Freak weather, it's usually sweltering at this time of the year.

The man wearing a cape and crown holding a scepter of stuffed toys waved at the cars stopped at the junction as he crossed the road. While I skittered through the shade and waited in the sunny spots until we hit Pitt. hehehe. hit pitt.

Myer was less packed than usual, maybe cause it was a Sunday. Which made for easy shopping. Buying lingerie always makes me happy. And there was a discount on pleasure state. And you get much nicer things here than in KL. Excuses, excuses.

Unfortunately the dress I tried out fit perfectly. Unfortunately it costs 250. Unfortunately, I'm obsessing over it. It's black, silk satin, above the knee, fitted at the waist, scoop/round neck. Nothing flashy or unusual but it is classic. What think you? The photo quality is crap but you get the picture.

I'm going to see if I can get approval from the Powers That Be to get it as a birthday/ thesis present >p

sulk

2008-11-28T05:33:00.000+08:00

Go directly to Jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.

This blows.

a quickie

2008-11-26T19:43:00.008+08:00

have you read the news? fantastic, tell me I won't even be able to trip around Bangkok and Chiang Mai now

30 seconds after getting into the car:
"You asked your parents if I could speak English"
(burst of laughter from me. I miss being a kid)
30 minutes later:
"Sadist"
(all I did was to play with the meat on the barbeque and mutter 'sizzle'. I swear.)
1.5 hours later:
"You used to bathe in the big basin in TR"
(up until I was ten maybe. the things people remember)

I found a recipe for almond croissants. It sounds promising, like the ones I had in QV. It involves sugar, butter, almonds, egg, and rum. Yo ho ho and a bottle full of rum! Oh and croissant of course. Tomorrow tomorrow..

Why the fuck is it this cold in late November? A bit of heat, please? thanksloveyoubye

I hate packing up a life. Grumpy. I'm starting to feel KL mode creeping into me. I can't write that way and I certainly can't find the center in that mode. The fatwas don't help either. Screech. I want ink. Or something else with three letters. Let's run through the list: pot, sex,
my brain stops there. Dammit. I need an electric choker that zaps me everytime I think dirty thoughts. Then again, I might get used to that. Oh behave! Rambling.
bye!

bang bang

2008-11-24T08:31:00.003+08:00

Sometime between sleep and waking this morning I had this brief illusion that my heart had been replaced with a block of pale wood and that an unseen hand was pounding it with an invisible hammer.

ish

2008-11-22T09:35:00.003+08:00

I'm kicking myself for this. I think, I almost know that I'm changing my mind about going dirty backpacker in December. I just don't want to admit it yet.

A month ago I was certain about doing this; go travel, rough it out without the usual luxuries, go at it alone, see new places, have new experiences. But now that I've booked my flight and have gotten down to the little details - transport, budget, accomodation, things to do - I'm chickening out. I don't really want to rough it out. Been there, done that. I've gone without hot water for a month, collected a layer of dirt on my skin so thick that I could rub it off in the shower, stayed in places that were so filthy the bathroom soap had pubic hair encrusted on it, had my bones shaken and bum bruised by 7 hour long bus rides on dirt roads. With no air conditioning. In the hot and dry Indochina season.

It was fun, I liked playing that role. And I've been wanting to do it again for the past few months (not so much the filthy guesthouse thing though). But do I want to do it now? I don't think so. I am not relishing the thought of going dirty backpacker now and not very enthusiastic about doing it alone. I like my creature comforts and I don't want to be alone with only myself for company. No Internet, no cellphone, no communication with the 'normal' world. And I hate to admit it but lying to my mom about having a travelling companion is killing me. It is safe to go alone, I know that from everyone I've talked to who's been there and who lives there but there is no way she would let me go alone. Which is why I have to lie to put her mind at ease. Knowing that doesn't help with the guilt though, and each time I speak to her about the trip it gets harder and harder.

So I'm re-examining my reasons for wanting to go.

i. final fling (kind of) before having to work and be responsible. Throw off the shackles of everyday life and just wander.
- I don't feel the same urge to do it anymore. I'm content. I'm not quite ready to go back to KL yet but taking a side trip doesn't hold the same appeal it did before. I've done it before so it's not a novelty. And I don't want to abandon civilization any more. The shackles of everyday life are actually very comfortable.

ii. see places, eat things
- I do still want to do this, but the list of places I want to go to now is considerably shorter. Bangkok is obviously still on the list, Chiang Mai is a probably, I would still like to check out Luang Prabang. But Phonsavan, Vientiane, Si Pan Don etc. not so much. I want a lazy chilled out holiday. Rushing from one place to the next isn't lazy, it is stressful.

iii. an interim between KL and Sydney to heal and be alone
- I don't need this anymore. Melbourne did me good and I think being alone with myself for three weeks might actually undo that.

Sigh. I am truly a fickle little twit. I'll probably rebook my ticket to shorten the trip. A week or two maybe. Bangkok is a must, Chiang Mai and Luang Prabang maybe.

Mecca cosmetica is evil

2008-11-21T15:53:00.005+08:00

I walked around the city with my nose stuck in the crook of my elbow today. Saffron, coriander, pepper, amber, and musk smells much better than cheap tobacco and the stink of the masses. It was a warm day.

And I did buy it at the end of the day. It looks like a giant gold nugget sitting on my dresser. And a rosy saint, and a gipsy. Rubberized casing gets me. Major wallet burn. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like my heart of stone has been wrapped in a fur. PETA begone.

We had pastries and coffee, chased with roasted pistachio gelato. And there's pate and sourdough sitting on the counter waiting for me. Purrr

overheard

2008-11-20T21:33:00.005+08:00

"fe le lo ro shay"

guess what was being referred to. we then spent the next ten minutes mocking these little (Singaporean/ Malaysian) Chinese boys up and down the aisles.

I'm going to hell, I know. (psst. I don't believe in it so that's okay)

was going to pose a twisty conundrum here but when i started writing it i forgot what the point was. and it wasn't that tricky to begin with. brains scrambled from results. oof. shoo you, unless you're going to metaphysically celebrate with me. kidding.
i am content for now

book worm

2008-11-18T20:08:00.005+08:00

I have a stack of books to devour. I love UNSW's library (when the books aren't missing or out on loan or otherwise untraceable). A selection of classic (more or less) titles:

G. - J. Berger
Story of O - P. Reage
Story of the Eye - G. Bataille
The Marquis de Sade: The 120 days of Sodom, and other writings - M. de Sade (the copy of Justine was lost)

blame intellectual curiousity. will be back after I'm done. with summaries, or not. most likely not considering the content (because you should read it for yourself!)

I'm halfway through G., 20 pages into Story of O (couldn't put it down when I started in the library) and 3 pages into Story of the Eye. I started reading the latter while having lunch and had to stop. It seemed like a good idea. The acts of eating and sex are both sensory pleasures/ necessities (take your pick) and go so so well together. Certain foods are believed to be aphrodisiacs, both activities involve sight, smell, touch (meals eaten with your hands are remembered better than those with utensils), and taste. Ideally. Sex also involves sound, which is optional when you're eating unless you count the sound of chewing or conversation, which is exterior to eating but sometimes enhances a meal. I digress. Short attention span. My point: full sensory experiences. Oh and my ideal partner must have an appetite. I'm going to draw up a list of essential characteristics one day.

Back to the books.

The Story of the Eye however, does not go well with food.
No.
Big No.
Should have read the synopsis first I guess.

quote unquote

2008-11-17T08:17:00.003+08:00

I was skimming an article in the times and came across this Palin quote:

My concern has been the atrocities there in Darfur and the relevance to me with that issue as we spoke about Africa and some of the countries there that were kind of the people succumbing to the dictators and the corruption of some collapsed governments on the continent, the relevance was Alaska’s investment in Darfur with some of our permanent fund dollars.
And, she concluded, “never, ever did I talk about, well, gee, is it a country or a continent, I just don’t know about this issue.”

Eyargh! All my favourite traits rolled into one. Incoherence, ignorance, pretension (to awareness), bad bad BAD grammar. In a person who stood to hold the second most important post in the most powerful country in the world. shudder. I going to read The Story of O to erase this from my head. >)

chew the cud

2008-11-15T18:16:00.005+08:00

So i was thinking about this in the shower. it's been in the back of my mind for awhile now but I've skirted the issue deliberately, not wanting to have to change my habits. but ultimately, I believe that this is something no thinking person can avoid confronting. it's a small step to take from purchasing food to wondering where it came from, who made it, under what conditions, and at what cost (not in the dollar sense but in an environmental and social sense, which could and should be translated into economic value but I'm not the person to do that). whether you acknowledge it or not, the answers to these questions have a direct relation to you.

Once these questions have been asked, the answers are easy to find. Michael Pollan is a good place to start, as is Peter Singer but there are other writers out there I haven't read who have written on the subject. There is too much to go into here and I can't pull the facts out of my head automatically but trust me on this (and if you don't, investigate for yourself) the issue of ethical food matters. Where was your food grown? How far has it travelled to get to you? Who grew it and was s/he paid a fair wage? What is in your food (this is particularly relevant when you're looking at processed foods)? Under what conditions was your food grown and are these conditions sustainable? These are the questions that ought to be asked.

It's funny that it took a bar of chocolate I picked up out of curiousity to lead me to this point. See I started thinking in the shower about the trade-off that I make as a consumer in choosing to purchase that expensive ($5 for a 40g bar, to compare $5 for a 250g block of commercial chocolate) piece of chocolate. Simple math, if you look at it from a purely economic angle but then think about what was on the back of the 40g bar. Organic. Fairly traded. Locally made (if using imported cacao). A short, explicit ingredient list (I had a packet of Dove chocolates around. Ingredients: sugar, cocoa mass, cocoa butter, milk solids, emulsifier, flavours, Note the ambiguity of 'flavours', 'emulsifier'. Dove chocs are made by the Mars company too so that means that the cocoa used was not fairly traded).

The bottom line is, I can eat the expensive local, organic, fairly traded chocolate with a clear conscience knowing I have not contributed to a company which condones unfair trade and does not practice full disclosure to the average consumer of its products. Instead of giving money to a large corporation which prioritizes its growth, I'm giving money to a company which funnels it to a community which has worked for it and needs it. This I can live with, even though this chocolate costs 6 times more than the other. I don't need to eat that much more chocolate and I'm willing to cut back on my intake of what is essentially a luxury since the little that I will consume has been ethically produced. It won't make a difference to my food budget (don't really have one, but hypothetically speaking now) because I'll be spending the same amount on chocolate. Less of it, to be sure, but of ethical origins. Extending this to other food groups means that in some, maybe many cases, what I pay for will be of better quality and better nutritional value (fresh produce gets main mention here).

Coincidentally, I'm painting my nails a shimmery rich chocolate. yum.

Dinner: tortilla-base pizza (because the one thing I baulk at is yeast. Especially when I'm hungry) with prosciutto, rocket, bocconcini and tomato. I have some prosciutto to use up and it's too intensely flavoured to eat in a sandwich. shouldn't have bought so much. damn DJs. d-oh. melons and bocconcini and I'm set.

There was a woman in the bus today with a funny hiccoughing laugh. haha. stop. haha. stop. literally. at some point on the way to the city this woman in a suit scooted into the empty seat in front of me. i was distracted for awhile by the hiccup-laugher and then spaced out like you do on bus rides. then i noticed that the woman in front of me appeared to be sleeping, leaning against the side of the bus. she must have had a rough day. since it was 1 in the afternoon, maybe she had to work really early too. as i exited the bus, i glanced at her. puffy faced and tired-eyed. a twinge of sympathy.

reading material

2008-11-15T17:29:00.004+08:00

-raw organic activated almond & purple corn dark chocolate-
62% raw cacao
single origin from Satipo Peru
our cacao is fairly treated

** organic chocolate bars are handmade in Melbourne. the organic cacao we use is raw, which means our chocolate has up to 4 times as many antioxidants as conventional chocolate. We use organic agave syrup (a natural, low GI sweetener) instead of sugar to create this delicious chocolate bar.

Ingredients: organic raw cacao butter, organic raw cacao powder, organic agave syrup (dark), organic activated almods, vanilla beans, purple corn extract, himalayan crystal salt.

taste. apparently much better than cacao nibs (I haven't tried, JY has). a bit coarser than commercial dark chocolate but with a more complex flavour. maybe the soft bitty bits were cause it's raw... ooh, himalayan crystal salt, agave syrup. i'm a sucker for new stuff. and packaging. and

fair trade. the makers of this chocolate reportedly observe the spirit of fair trade more than green & blacks and, obviously, the big guns (incidentally, cadbury owns g&b) and definitely more than Lindt, Nestle, Hershey, and the Mars company (crap. boo!! off my safe eating list, you lot.)

more here

barf

2008-11-15T08:15:00.002+08:00

seriously.

these fuckwits can't control their own urges and resort to regulating the life out of women. pathetic. Dahling, your beloved council is the security threat, not the NGOs.

revival

2008-11-15T07:12:00.003+08:00

I walked through a carpet of purple flowers this morning. It's been raining since last night and the winds blew down half the flowers on the trees.

So this is my new project/ revitalized dormant project: to cook properly.

It started yesterday, really. I made mayonnaise from scratch, using a hand whisk. And it was good. See there's this site with pictures of food that link you to individual blogs. One of the pictures brought me to a blog where the author had made mayonnaise. I had everything the recipe called for at hand, time to kill, and besides, I'd wanted to make mayonnaise for yonks now. It had always intimidated me though - stories of the mixture curdling and separating put me off. I don't like the prospect of failure.

But this, this seemed easy. And it was! Piece of cake. I only had Cobram Estate's EV olive oil in the cupboard so the mayo has a strong bite to it; peppery and fruity. It is also really thick. Like pudding. Could have thinned it out but I got a kick out of seeing it jiggle. My mayo has character. Hah.

A third of it got turned into aioli, the rest was unadulterated. Dolloped onto smoked ham and sandwiched between toast for dinner. Yum. Now I've got to use it up within a week but that shouldn't be hard. Now I've got to try making hollandaise to go with poached eggs (picked up a little metal egg poacher in Melbourne. It is shaped like an old-fashioned bathtub with legs. Only it has holes in the bottom so it can't hold water. And a stem. Adorable)

Today's project is undetermined.

I'm re-loving my macchinetta

whoosh

2008-11-14T08:36:00.001+08:00

i like the rush of the plane's acceleration and the jolt as it touches down

aiya

2008-11-13T17:57:00.001+08:00

CdG 8 88 - love at first sniff.
TF Black Orchid - black truffle. ohh

I need to cultivate less expensive taste.

melbourne pt.1

2008-11-13T14:48:00.003+08:00

I spent most of the trip eating, or at least it felt that way. JY insisted on paying for every meal we ate together as her graduation gift to me. In return, I made pancakes. I know. Breakfast was mostly at her flat - coffee and whatever else was on hand but I couldn't not trip down to the QV markets for pastries (and coffee) at least twice.

Gill's Diner - gnochetti with tomato and calamari, duck confit with lentils

some Japanese place - sword tataki with ponzu, spicy prok mince ramen

QV - almond croissant (lovelovelove. it wasn't the type you find in KL with a sprinkle of almond flakes on top of a normal croissant - this had chunky marzipan running through the pastry and on top, with a thorough dusting of icing sugar to make sure everyone know you've been eating sweet stuff)

mussels in white wine (home cooked)

Cafe Vue - lunch box. Cafe Vue is a more casual branch of Vue de Monde and the lunch box we both ordered is a genius idea. The contents change daily so you don't know what you're going to get and it comes in a sturdy red cardboard box designed by someone or another (printed on top, did not register. preoccupied with contents). Perfect for the indecisive. Let the chef decide what you should eat. Inside, there's a little menu to tell you what you've gotten. We got a starter of pork rilette with fennel seed crackers (rather Asian), a salad of haricot blanc and chorizo, tuna nicoise roll, and a dessert of chocolate mousse with baked orange cream. How sweet is that? And the disposable cutlery they supplied with it was made of wood. It kinda reminded me of toy kitchen sets, you know those plywood forks and spoons. I liked. There's a picture of me admiring the cutlery (just because they were such a novelty. no splinters either)

Laksa me - Khao Sao Gai. Not sure if this was Thai but it was yummy - dry fried noodles with a chicken curry.

QV (again) - coffee scroll. I'd seen this the first time I went to QV and put it on my to eat list. It had coffee in its name, can't go past that. Turns out, it's like a coffee cake - it doesn't actually have any coffee in it but it goes perfectly with coffee. More like a giant cinnamon bun. Damn. Not coffee.

Hooked - grilled fish, salt and pepper calamari, a mountain of chips (I shit you not. a mole hill, at least)

Fritz gelato - ruby grapefruit and blood orange. Blood orange...

smoky bacon and spiced plum sausages with broccoli. We picked up these sausages at QV and baked them. Smoky bacon really tasted like smoky bacon. I kept trying to taste plum in the other one because it intrigued me but it was fairly subtle. You could taste a slight fruitiness in it but it didn't overpower the meat. Yummy, very yummy. By this point I wanted to up stakes and live in Melbourne just because it has QV. But then the weather is kind of shit and it was really the central location of the flat which got me.

lamb and cheese gozleme at the Sunday arts market. Like pide, but thinner bread and less filling.

Grill'd - Hot Mama burger. I know there's a place in Kl with the same name but it's not part of this chain I think. The Hot Mama had harissa (love harissa. want to smuggle a tub back to KL with me), roasted peppers (another love), tzatziki (love, but a bit less), pickle and cheese. Oh and some salad too. It was at least 3 inches thick. Squish squish squish and it fits! chomp.

Animal Orchestra (love the name) - Baked eggs with chorizo, black pudding and tomato. I need to get a baked eggs recipe. Also shared a sticky date pudding with vanilla bean ice cream (it rhymes. say it really fast now: vanillabeanicecream vanillabeanicecream) and caramel sauce. Should also find a good recipe for this. Dammit, why are all the things I love hard to find in KL.

Dainty Sichuan (I swear, I'm not making these names up) - so not dainty. This is real sichuan food (I've been told). Sichuan peppercorns do this strange thing to your tongue and lips where they have a numbing effect. So it doesn't sting the way spicy food usually does. Instead, you just lose sensation. Hmm.... I glanced in the mirror when we got back and my lips were fatter than usual. It looked strange. Sichuan food works better than lip plumpers and doesn't sting like lip plumpers. The peppercorns themselves look slightly alien. It's like someone took regular peppercorns and covered them in tiny white zits. Oh right, the food - beef on toothpick (that's what it said on the menu, don't scold me for not remembering!), chilli chicken, and leeks with tofu. Both meat dishes came in a mountain of dry fried tiny chillies. Not sure if they were cili padi but there were a hell of a lot of them. I think they reuse the chillies - we had to wait a really long time for the chicken to come out and it was only after another table which had ordered it had left. Tasty, spicy and fascinating.

Nobu - sashimi tacos (shared), lunch bento box and suntory whisky cappucino (shared). Ok, so you've probably heard of Nobu. If you haven't, google it. The sashimi tacos were delicious. They put cubed tuna, salmon, crabmeat, and prawns (separately) into mini crisp taco shells and plonked a little pot of salsa next to it for you to dab on. South America meets Japan. Loved the contrasting textures and the different flavours. The tacos were a bit too tasty (salty) but it's all good. The bento box was huge. Stacked oblong bento box with 5 compartments. It came with a portion of black cod with miso (signature dish), tuna sashimi with a sesame-black pepper-maybe a bit of ponzu but i'm not sure dressing, various sushi, mixed vegetables on rice, citrusy shrimp tempura. And miso soup. And I finished it all! (except for most of the rice under the veges). The whisky cappucino was the best bit of the meal. It's actually a layered dessert in a cap cup. bottoms up: chocolate covered coffee bean bits, coffee creme brulee (not really a creme brulee, just custard), milk ice cream, whisky foam. I want this every day for a month, Then maybe I'd get sick of it and not crave it.

gnocchi with shrimp and peas in a creamy white wine sauce (homecooked and bloody good. easy too)

enchiladas and meatballs from DJ's food hall.

there. now I'm hungry.

frown

2008-11-12T20:54:00.006+08:00

Back from Melbourne and refreshed. Sniffed much, ate more, walked less.

I love staying in the city centre. Clean, modern apartment. Hardwood floors. No cooking odours. Good, intelligent company. Perfect. More to come on the trip.

The good-bad thing about spending time with my cousin is that my judgemental tendencies and intellectual capacity resurface. While this means that I've pulled it together because I cannot stand having weaknesses, it also means that the trite makes me shudder once again and I'm tempted to disavow anyone who spouts banalities and unnecessary adjectives.
Reconciliation: People have the right to be as inane and insubstantial as they want. Just as I have the right to scorn them and dismiss them with disdain. Yes, I am arrogant.

Also the flat stinks of curry. Ugh.

peal

2008-11-04T19:48:00.001+08:00

the ringing of the Town Hall bells at dusk created a strangely beautiful cacophony.

omifuckingod

2008-11-04T19:20:00.005+08:00

this one - such a bastard. so much for being friends when you can't be there for me the one time I ask you. I could be a grown up and pretend it's alright but you've done nothing to deserve decent treatment. this is you being pushed out of my life. bye now.

---
Melburn tomorrow. Hope to restore my appetite there. Strangely I haven't been hungry for the past two days. I've been eating around friends, not because I'm hungry but because it is expected of me. Dinner last night was after having an apple and coffee for lunch (not by conscious choice, there was a lot going on). And despite the intrigue of a fluffed-up piece of roti canai (think an irregularly shaped ball made by someone who has never seen a ball) and the first roti in months, I ate it with a semblance of enthusiasm. Because I was supposed to.

The same thing happened at lunch today. C and I shared a panang curry and pad thai at one of the best places in Sydney (conveniently close to home too) and I just pretended to be hungry. Dinner was a few strawberries because they needed to be eaten before I left. Nothing in between but a latte. Still not hungry.

Here we go again.

In less than 24 hours Dubya's successor will be known. I'm going to miss G W actually. The gems he's come up with are priceless. You could put a dyslexic with tourettes on stage and he still wouldn't be able to top G W. ah good times.. (if at the cost of international regard and basic competence)

protection

2008-11-03T17:40:00.001+08:00

I want a shell or a cave to hide in for awhile

Melbourne will do.

burn

2008-11-03T16:47:00.005+08:00

I wonder what it would be like to go out with a normal, decent man. For a change. Bring me one? After I detox that is.

I don't know where to start with the day's events. I don't know if I should, so I won't. Strangely, it doesn't hurt the way you would expect it to. It's already reached saturation point I guess.

On the upside (or maybe more on the strange side as well), it was another day where people kept smiling at me. In the faculty corridors, on the road. Whatever.

I saw whales for the first time. They were just off the shore at Maroubra and I could see their tails flipping and occasional spurts of water. Also got burnt (thank you impromptu-beach-trip-without-sunscreen-at-noon). The straps and the hemline from my dress are on clear display. Genius.
-walks around the house muttering ow ow ow ow-

IT has been read by people other than my supervisor by now. Duncan told me that today was the date all theses were to be passed back to the Honours coordinator. After this the two different markers' scores will be tallied and there will be the Honours committee meeting to discuss the results before they are released. The thought of other people reading, having read it terrifies me, just a little. It has been put out there for strangers to see. An open book.
Dinner was good.

I miss my people.

week end

2008-11-02T18:41:00.007+08:00

I got drizzled on at the market. It was an overcast day and I got there past 10, which is early by my standards since I had to wake up at 8.

The smell of food grilling floats through the open air market. You know the way they draw odours in cartoons, those wafting wispy strands of scent leading people forward by their noses? Yeah. First stop was for confused eggs (fancy egg and bacon roll) - eggs scrambled on a grill plate, smoky bacon, rocket and barbeque sauce on a chewy bun *love*. The sisters made a special request for the pomegranate balsamic vinegar that they got when I took them there back in June. M swore it turns the simplest salad into gourmet fare. It's funny how I'll shell out 20 dollars for a tiny jar of truffle salsa but wince inside at paying 22 for a bottle of balsamic (limited ed granted). Being the dutiful and loving sibling I am, I scored the last bottle available for them and a good pack of bush dukkah too (again, another easy gourmet maker). Plus a smaller packet of dukkah and tayberry jam to bring to JY in Melbourne.

'What's tayberry?'

A cross between a blackberry and a raspberry it seems, and possibly the most curious item at that stall. A minute after I asked, a couple came up and asked the same thing after glancing over the jams and tarts on display. The jam itself is slightly tart (raspberry genes?) but pleasantly so. (note to self: finish off stash of jams in fridge - strawberries and champagne, lemon curd, cherry, err.. too many. slight jam addiction maybe)

And that was it. That's all I got because it started drizzling while I was polishing off my brunch and I was wearing a dress and it was cold. >( The drizzle paused for awhile but it came back as rain later by which point I was trapped in the closest mall.

The walk to and back from the market along the harbour carried so many memories. The last time I had been there was in June with the sisters, happy and anticipating. Every visitor to Sydney has been brought to Darling Harbour to play in the random miniature fountains and try to get to the middle of the water swirl structure without getting their feet wet. It's this circular installation of sorts where alternating panels descending to a platform with a sphere in the middle have water flowing down towards the center in a spiral. Hard to describe. Takes too many words, but you know which one I'm talking about. I remember walking on the bridge overhead with B, S, and others, friends.

I just realized this afternoon that the goodbyes have begun. Friday's lunch was probably the last time I'll see that friend for a long time. Dinner with Duncan and his wife tomorrow will be another goodbye. And Tuesday brings another possibly last dinner. And as for the city itself, I'm slowly, reluctantly saying goodbye to it. There's a list of favourite haunts to visit before I fly. Some of them are everyday favourites, on campus, in Randwick. Others are more specialized - the art gallery for a dose of culture and calm in the storm, my secret place really, Coogee to doze and watch the waves roll in (some of my books are testament to this - sand between the pages), the train ride from bondi to circular quay just for the view pulling into the station, bills surry hills for the food and perfect brunch ambiance. One by one.

---
Last night doesn't bear talking about. I'm still seething/ stewing. You can tell me it'll drive you crazy after I leave if we start again and whisper that you'll miss me. Yet you don't want to make the most of the time I have left here. Because it'll drive you crazy after. Spineless. Allow me to express my contempt for you once again.
i'm losing my favourite game. my heart is black and my body is blue.
---

Reading: The Ethics of What We Eat - Singer and Mason.
I prefer Pollan's writing style, it's more polished and does not have the agenda these two have. But it is a good read nevertheless. Like Pollan, they raise serious questions about the food we eat, usually without thought. I might turn vegetarian for ethical reasons eventually. If my ethics ever hold up long enough to have their existence verified, that is. More on this later.

pack for melbourne! triptriptrip

purrr

2008-10-31T12:49:00.003+08:00

another 3 hour lunch, big breakfast with poached eggs
talk: Malaysian and Singaporean politics, miscellaneous topics, food, the perks of being an academic, god knows what else. the heat saps everything.

AND IT"S FUCKING HOT! 38 degrees out and sweltering

tomorrow: pyrmont market to see if they have any more pomegranate vinegar and bush dukkah. and confused eggs for brunch

Monday

2008-10-29T18:14:00.003+08:00

I spent the afternoon in the city. From Chinatown I made my way up to the CBD, felt the heat from the sun on my skin. It's different from what it is in Malaysia. The air here has a clarity I haven't encountered anywhere else; not in Melbourne where it is filtered by cloud cover, more diffuse in Brisbane, and unlike the heavy and dense air in KL. The brilliance startled me every time I returned from a month or three away. Just walking out on a clear day, perhaps after the rain, even in the middle of winter, the clarity of the light makes me smile.

I picked up a loaf of bread, a chocolate hazelnut croissant, and a cherry strudel from one of the best bakeries in the city. The croissant was my lunch on the go, happily leaving a trail of crumbs behind me as I walked through the underground of QVB, back into the light, through Myer, and up to Martin Place to get cupcakes. Knowing that it was one of the last times, possibly the last time I would do that did not make it any less enjoyable and I smiled to myself all the way, chomping on the flaky pastry.

Almost every landmark in this city has a memory attached to it. Places to meet friends or lovers, places to walk alone through the crowds, places to escape from the crowds and just be silent. Over these four years, this city has turned from a stranger to something else. It's sharp beauty, like the edge of a knife would cut through whatever else was fogging my mind; the emotions, preoccupations. And when there were none, it amplified the happiness and peace.The clarity of air I have found only here at times bordered on being overly bright. Almost blinding.

Yet the sharpness never cut me, instead cutting through to me. Frequent pauses for a moment of appreciation, to just stop running for awhile and admire you.

It's an oxymoron - a beautiful city. Cities aren't supposed to be beautiful. They are brick and mortar, steel and concrete, man made defences against nature and the wilderness. They are elegant at best but elegance is not beauty. Somehow you have that quality rare in a city and wear it lightly.

yum

2008-10-28T18:03:00.002+08:00

strawberries in caramelized balsamic
porchetta with dijon on rye

life is good
*smirk*

revised itinerary

2008-10-28T14:22:00.003+08:00

Chiang Mai - Ban Houayxay - Louang Phrabang - Phonsavan - Vientiane - (if there's time, Si Phan Don) - Bangkok

this after narrowing down the suggestions from Duncan re:Laos and throwing out his more bizzare preferences ('I like to go to the places tourists don't go because there are no sights for them there' = off the road/ bombed out by the Americans)

also, travel in the daytime because the scenery is beautiful. That means I should put aside at least 3 days for traveling on the road.

10 days? I think Si Pan Don might not happen this time around

I have way too much time on my hands

2008-10-26T18:50:00.006+08:00

Pollan is making me seriously think about food for a change (as opposed to what exactly I'm not sure).

New project: Industrial vs organic chicken
Pollan's book is roughly divided into 3 sections; industrial, organic (which has two subdivisions), and personal, each of which traces the paths of produce produced through each system. Industrial follows corn because it's the keystone of American industrial agriculture. Corn - beef, corn - HFCS, cornstarch, dexterin, -glycerides, and other molecular derivatives of corn mass. Thirteen out of the 38 ingredients that go into a Chicken Mcnugget are corn-derived. Yeah, 38. I digress.

What was my point? Oh right, industrial/ organic chicken. So the premise of this experiment is the 'chicken-ness' of say, a Chicken McNugget. Does it really taste like chicken with its 38 ingredients, including natural chicken? I'm not sure. In my memories Chicken McNuggets seems like chicken, although the dominant flavour is the crust of the thing and it's McDonald-ness (no better word, not going to bother trying to find it either). You know that particular flavour or aroma McDonalds food has. The texture of the thing certainly isn't chicken - which isn't surprising considering the 38 things that go into it. The chicken meat that has gone into a Chicken McNugget has been processed and disfigured to the point of no longer resembling it's source. That's my hypothesis.

So I'm going to make a side by side comparison of Chicken McNuggets with a piece of organic, free-range if possible grilled/ pan fried chicken (although these veracity of the labels attached to such a chicken in the supermarket may be misleading, I've got no other source so that chicken will have to do as 'authentic chicken')

And yes, this is an attempt at distracting myself from the boredom and loneliness so I don't give in and call any of them. hah.

Next time, I will only write after having coffee. So incoherent.

murderous tendencies

2008-10-26T18:49:00.000+08:00

cockroach.

kill kill kill!

like, seriously?

2008-10-25T20:41:00.004+08:00

So erstwhile f-buddy and nominal friend (oversimplification but you already know the complicated details), S called. He managed to lock himself out of his flat and wanted to know if he could stay with me in case the locksmith couldn't come until the next morning.

I'm on auto answer when people ask for help (unfortunately) so 'sure' is my verbal response

Luckily, the locksmith pulls through (yay, nameless locksmith!) and S doesn't have to spend the night with me.

But seriously, was there no one else he could call?

Men

-thump-

2008-10-25T13:01:00.003+08:00

I ate my cupcake (too eggy) and just as I finished it I remembered the time I was standing in front of you, using your laptop.

You put your head to my chest just to listen to my heart beat.

grr owl

strike one: 'fast' food

2008-10-24T18:33:00.001+08:00

i don't think i'll be able to look at a maccas meal without seeing a bushel of corn and a gallon of petroleum now

sigh

idle thoughts

2008-10-24T14:35:00.006+08:00

I was thinking while carving up a roasted chicken. Tearing the meat off the bone structure of a chicken is something I suck at. It takes forever. So I started thinking of a conversation a few months ago, about infidelity and whether it's acceptable and even normal.

To me, it is not acceptable and it is not normal. I would leave any man who cheated on me, regardless of how sorry he may be or how many excuses he may make. And likewise, I would leave someone I could not be faithful to instead of prolonging the relationship. Here's why.

To argue that man is inherently incapable of monogamy smacks of determinism and is a blatant denial of free will. True, men are more inclined towards having multiple partners than women are. It's a throwback to prehistoric times and a fact of nature. But this alone is not enough to justify infidelity because humans, unlike animals, have free will. This capacity to make rational choices and morality are elements which distinguish man from beast. A person who cannot rise above his baser instincts is not fully developed as an individual, both mentally and morally. Fidelity is something every person in a serious relationship has the right to expect from his/ her partner.

It is also a matter of respect. A person who truly respects and values a relationship would not then jeopardize it by seeking attention from a third party. It can be argued that there are extenuating circumstances, problems in the relationship but these are excuses, not reasons. However troubled the two of you may be, if it is worth holding on to, the last thing you do is to find someone else to play with. To do so is to wilfully and deliberately hurt your partner. If it's not working out, the two people would be better off going their separate ways.

To accept infidelity, physical or emotional, as inevitable is to perpetuate a vicious cycle upon both your current relationship and future ones. Because he, having gotten away with it once, is likely to carry the belief that most women will forgive and forget infidelity into future relationships. And she, having it stamped into her consciousness that the genetic predisposition is an excuse for infidelity, will allow it to happen in future relationships.

Conflating the weaknesses of the individual with the tendencies of the sex is flawed. And yes, I do believe that it is a sign of weakness, and that it marks a personal lack of self control and responsibility. I've been there before but I hope to have learnt better.

The argument that men just can't be monogamous is not one which holds water these days. Infidelity is less common than you might suppose - one in five men and one in ten women have commited infidelity during their marriages. It is not inevitable for a man or a woman to cheat.

hatchoo!

2008-10-23T20:30:00.005+08:00

The company was good. So much so that I failed to notice until much later that the food wasn't actually as good as I remembered it to be. The deep fried prawn, chicken, fish, and mashed potato thing were lukewarm bordering on cold and the sashimi was dry as if it had been prepared a few hours ago. But I ate it all anyway. The whole dinner bento box (this is where you break out the applause). Not bad, but not what I remembered it to be.

The barbequed squid was good though.

Fucking sydney is fucking freezing. It's been like the middle of winter for the past two days - 15degrees out, plus rain, plus knock-you-over wind. Really. Thank you. I felt a cold catching this afternoon but dinner seems to have chased it away. Also chased dinner with a walk through the city (late night shopping Thursday, y'know! shops open til 9! excitement) and something I haven't had for years - one of those Japanese green tea ice cream things encased in wafer with red bean in the middle. Eating ice cream when it's cold is really counterintuitive. My head says no, my tastebuds go 'yes please!'. No prizes for guessing who wins. And because my tastebuds are self indulgent, the rest of me couldn't try on clothes. Which of course means a return trip is necessary.

And contrary to popular belief (really people, I do have some sense of morality that actually functions now and then. And it's functioning full swing right now) I am being good and staying away from all of them nasty liddle (or not so liddle) addictions. Mind over body.

The bad news is that the same ethics are also starting to hammer at me for all of the following reasons:-
i. eating unsustainably farmed food - meat and veg
ii. eating unethically grown meat
iii. eating un-local produce (both meat and veg again)
iv. eating processed 'food' and junk
In sum, contributing to the 'military-industrial complex' that fuels bad health and divorces people from nature by so easily turning that cow into an unrecognizable patty with corn filler.
It's also bad for the environment.
read
M. Pollan compacts the contents of 'the omnivore's dilemma' here AND offers solutions too. You will need an account with the NY Times to access the article, but it's free. Alternatively you could wait until the next time you see me in person and get the lowdown from me, significantly simplified and edited for content depending on the inconsistencies of my memory. Just sign up for an account dammit, save us all the trouble :p

Whether this will impact my eating habits remains to be seen. Because my carefully nurtured ethics are coming up against my culturally-ingrained apathy and cynicism. Activism vs. defeatism. Sit back and watch.
See, this is where all my energy is being redirected.

This weather calls for Miles Davis. It's a thing I have. Jazz goes well with hibernation. hibernate. zzzzz

It's nice not having anything to do. :)

puk

2008-10-22T14:04:00.002+08:00

the sea salt and rosemary chips "cooked in 100% olive oil" had way too much rosemary.

this week

2008-10-21T19:25:00.004+08:00

this is the plan for the week so far:-
return the library books that are cluttering my room
meet Duncan and plan mamak session
dinner with C on Thursday. get hit with sugar if there's anything appetizing. the offerings this year don't appeal to me that much. what do you think?
carry out massive clean up of room
think about summarizing research findings for participants
hunt down cupcakes in the city (ooh.. wild game)

oh, and i went shopping today :)
1 dress (to add to my ever expanding collection). quite proper. not a sundress, more for dinner. stretchy and close fitting, cream upper, black lower. just above knee. v front and back. argh, you'll see. maybe.
2 pairs of shorts. basic. i left my fave pair of shorts in kl. genius
1 tank top. basic.
1 belt (because some of my dresses need a belt to look good). heart.

the belt i got needed an extra hole or two so it'd stay up instead of falling halfway down onto my hips. the guy at the shoe and watch place was nice - he did it for free

done

2008-10-21T07:55:00.003+08:00

yeah, it's done. it felt surreal yesterday, to not have it in my hands anymore, to know that it was complete. the work of almost a year and by far the biggest thing i have ever done.
'empty nest syndrome' my cousin called it.

But today it feels good. To finally have the time to do what I want without feeling guilty for taking precious minutes away from it.

So I made truffle scrambled eggs.

Remember bills' scrambled eggs? The silky texture without a trace of hardness in the eggs? :) I got it perfect today (and without the 1/2 cup of cream too)
nyam

I now have to clear off my desk and clean up my room - papers, journal articles, chapter drafts from march through to the final full draft in october, LIBRARY BOOKS (two trips)
I'm going to spend the next month of so doing (almost - because I'm being good) everything I've meant to do since March. And I'm also in the mood to cook for the first time in months. Maybe I'll set up a cafe with my sisters and use my thesis as wallpaper. Hmm..

And no, no plans to do a PhD. Or to turn my thesis into a book.

speculate

2008-10-16T22:47:00.004+08:00

Someone has my address here. Someone I do not remember giving my address to. Which means someone has been snooping because this someone does not know any of my friends (here).

How do I know this?

I had the earliest birthday present ever in the mail today.

was it YOU?

it's your fault i took this!

2008-10-16T14:46:00.003+08:00

the questions and options irritated me - i find very few things morally objectable but many of them are intellectually absent or tasteless. and what if you try to walk whenever possible BUT your family also owns luxury cars, cars that are fuel efficient, as well as second hand cars?

but i'm surprised at how 'not proud' i am. less surprised at what would send me to hell..

Greed:	High
Gluttony:	High
Wrath:	Medium
Sloth:	High
Envy:	Very Low
Lust:	Very High
Pride:	Medium

The Seven Deadly Sins Quiz on 4degreez.com

But

2008-10-15T11:46:00.001+08:00

You say you will wait for me to return. But it is not you I return to.

today

2008-10-15T10:03:00.004+08:00

I spoke with a man with the most brilliant blue eyes I have ever seen. They were jewel-toned, the colour of sapphires. Blue eyes and black hair get me every time

I amused myself by observing a pretty bubble head in the library

I picked up a copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma

I was offered a gingerbread man for oktoberfest

I smiled a bit at every head that turned

I had my usual large skim latte, one sugar and banana bread, toasted and buttered

I shivered in the wind

I relished every minute here because I know they are coming to an end

the end is near

2008-10-14T17:07:00.003+08:00

tweet tweet tweet tweet!
It's almost done
:)

just a couple of thorough read throughs to check for consistency from start to finish and then it's done. for good. monday, october 20 2008, 12pm will mark the end of this phase.

book list

2008-10-13T18:18:00.002+08:00

In preparation for freedom. I have a lot to catch up on

Michael Pollan - The Omnivore's Dilemma
- In Defense of Food
Peter Singer & Jim Mason - The Ethics of What We Eat
Jennifer McLagan - Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient
The Waiter - Thanks for the Tip: Confessions of a Cynical Waiter (Waiter Rant is brilliant)

TBC

constellations

2008-10-13T14:45:00.005+08:00

the End is in sight. the email read that tomorrow's meeting will be short. I interpret that to mean that there's little to correct or change and it is near acceptable for submission.

So I tripped home, first peaches of the season in hand, dawdling and anticipating. And admiring my gold nails every chance I got. Every time I want to check my watch I get distracted and look at my nails instead and forget about the time. tsk.

:)

The bad news, depending on how you see it, is that I feel the stirrings of my ink addiction. I should name them, just for ease of reference (and also because I secretly think they've each got a distinct personality. Or they are associated with a different me). The last one kept me satisfied for almost two years now, so that's a bit of a record. No piercings etc since then either.16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21 and nothing up to now. It IS a new record! woo hoo! I can't believe I got something done every year of my life since I was 16. Never counted until now.

This time around I want something
a. at the base of my neck/top of my back (obviously)
b. shoulder blade

first choice would be a. but that would leave the problem of concealing it should I ever be unfortunate enough to land in a conservative workplace. As for what it would be.... I've come full circle - I want another star. Perhaps a smaller one, not a carbon copy of the first but there aren't that many variations on stars.

Which gives me an interesting idea. I could eventually have a smattering of stars across my body/ canvas. Not just black or solid stars either, maybe have a few red stars, a few outlines of stars, different sizes. That kind of thing. OR instead of having a completely random scatter of stars, I could place them in apparently random positions but have them form a sign/ something-i-just-don't-know-what-yet if I were to draw an imaginary line connecting them. Connect the dots. ooh...

So, a constellation of stars or connect the dots (stars). This would keep me occupied for a decade, I would think. And because each one would be so (relatively that is) small, I could get them done more frequently. Yes, let's bring some order into this whole milestone thing instead of ending up with a completely random assortment of creatures and symbols. Bigger picture yeah

self-praise

2008-10-11T21:37:00.003+08:00

I have to admit, even as IT drives me insane editing it, I love the complexity of my thesis. Reading the first few paragraphs that state succintly what it's about makes me positively purr.

*

2008-10-08T21:37:00.002+08:00

hush now, if you're really quiet you'll be able to hear me scream

BECAUSE I NEED TO CUT 1500 WORDS

almost there

2008-10-07T20:41:00.005+08:00

I *heart* gnocchi filled with spinach and ricotta. It doesn't even need sauce. Browned butter might be nice. mmmm..

The meeting over the first draft lasted two and a half hours but it didn't seem like 2.5 hours. Must have been the coffee. Surprisingly little to change though even if it'll take a few full days to correct. Minor details here and there but Duncan still hasn't criticized anything I've written much. He talks about how he kept scribbling 'excellent!!' instead and wanted a stamp so he wouldn't have to keep writing that. I hope it's just me being overly critical of my own work rather than him being overly easy to impress/ lenient. Now, finding more things to cut is going to be hell. Damn word count. Shouldn't have it. It's repressive.

gnocchignocchignocchignocchi. love the sound of it. gnocchi. too much coffee. gnocchi. shiny blind-you-bright fuschia nails. gnocchi

this

2008-10-06T19:11:00.003+08:00

I loved you once before and maybe I still care, which is why I won't ignore you. Also because I'm being civil.

But I am over this back and forth game that you're trying to play. So when you ask me how I'm doing, I'll reply. And when you ask me to meet you now, you'll need to give me a reason to.

eat

2008-10-06T18:27:00.004+08:00

lunch. blanch asparagus. garlic sauteed in olive oil, capers, spaghettini, asparagus, crumble feta, smoked salmon, squeeze lemon. drizzle e.v. olive oil. yum.

i hear the constant sound of yarping

2008-10-05T08:21:00.003+08:00

9am:
still asleep, i hear
yarp yarp yarp yarp

(cover head with pillow and go back to sleep)

11am:
i wake up to more
yarp yarp yarp yarp

they made headphones and microphones for a reason. and do you have to make the living room your phone booth? yergh
blast PotUSA in return.

hehehehe

signs of summer

2008-10-03T15:52:00.008+08:00

bikinis (yay, skin!)

shorts and mini skirts and dresses instead of jeans

strawberries on the cheap, all the time

which naturally means that I eat a punnet a day (sometimes)

because they are that good. that red, that sweet, not even dipping them in dark chocolate tops these berries fresh and unadulterated

and yes, that is a package you see in the background. my cousin sent me a message two days ago - keep an eye out for the postman in a week!

it came today

and.. (now i know you'll scold me..)

this was in it

card telling me to hang in there

and the entire Zoya gossip collection

which completely satisfies all my hot-pink and purple cravings :) i know, i know..

plus Zoya ki, top coat, base coat, and quick dry drops

(photos taken with 1.3MP cameraphone so excuse the quality)

on another note, i was distracted by the presence of prawns (not dried, fresh and butterflied) in my papaya salad and wondering about the contents of my package. this is what happened

ooh prawns, i don't think they usually put prawns in papaya salad

(lifts a forkful of salad, briefly note red specks but continue pondering prawns)

munch munch munch

ow. shit. damn chilli. cili padi too

-germinating-

2008-10-02T17:10:00.005+08:00

Ok, this will take the place of my no-go solo jump

Places to visit/ worship in Thailand:

Ayuthaya
Chiang Mai (yes, again) - take the train up from BKK
BKK (obviously)
islands - not sure which ones yet, but eyeing Phi Phi
want to check out the south too but these bloody travel warnings.. the food would be different there from central and northern Thailand. it would only be fair!

and then off the beaten track (at least as far off as you can get in Thailand..) :
Ranong?
"The least charming of the Andaman coast's provincial capitals, Ranong lies on the east bank of tea-brown Pak Chan estuary, a short boat ride from Myanmar. This is a frontier town through and through, with a frenetic, downtrodden feel and a mix of Burmese and Thais scrambling for your tourist dollar. The town attempts to woo visitors not only with its interesting visa runs to Myanmar (Burma), but with a clutch of natural hot springs and a handful of tumbledown historic buildings. Even if you don't need to renew your visa, it's well worth taking the opportunity to have a cup of tea in Myanmar - but the bleak town of Ranong doesn't entice a stay longer than a day or two." - Lonely Planet
bleakness sounds promising. and i could hop across the border into Myanmar for a bit. but i don't like the sound of frenetic Burmese and Thais scrambling for my tourist dollar. bears consideration this one.

not off the beaten track but intruiging:
Pattaya
this is what Lonely Planet (again, so help me) says about it
"A heavy-breathing and testosterone-fuelled testament to holiday hedonism, Pattaya has lured tourists for almost four decades, and it's showing no sign of slowing down. And as past visitors move on to more genteel Thai resorts, first-time travellers from Russia and Eastern Europe now air their new passports with a fling in Asia's first and foremost Sin City. Anyone for Pattayagrad?"
herm... maybe to humour my curiousity

I have this urge to cover all corners of Thailand and then trek back to the center for a civilized break with the family. But the south is off limits for now, the Andaman coast offers Phuket but 'been there done that' and the rest of that side still has a [recovering from the tsunami] sign hung on the door. that might be an opportunity to do some 'community tourism' but god, how I hate the sound of that. It's so patronising and do-gooder who comes in for a weekend and goes 'oh, i helped rebuild this village'. harumph.

ALTERNATIVELY
It could be a BKK - Chiang Mai -
option (a) transit in bkk and take land route into Cambodia to trip out at Angkor again - 6 hours on dirt roads isn't that bad, done it before :) it gives you a massive headache but yeah, not unbearable
option (b) transit in bkk and take train into Laos and make way to Vientiane
option (c) take bus from Chiang Mai to border town of Huay Xai (Laos) and boat into Luang Prabang (yay, Laotian boat person!) and then check out Vientiane?

and that's as far as I've got right now. Eventually to head back to BKK and Ayuthaya and BKK and finally KL.

Laos sounds quite appealing actually. Angkor can wait for another trip and I've been there once, even if it wasn't enough.

trip?

2008-10-02T16:45:00.004+08:00

before i forget, this is an idea

december - Bangkok with sisters and mom is on. For a few days only though. Go earlier and backpack around for 2-3 weeks? JL might be in Chiang Mai by then, T in Bangkok

might be able to rope in JL for island hopping. ko samui, phiphi!! probably not full moon parties though. over the booze and drugs and partying thing.

ooh, could hop over the border into siam reap. and then laos. and maybe vietnam. not sure what's in myanmar but junta there.. ergh. hmm... wanderlust..

research! of the good kind :)
and I have until monday off from thesis stuff. yay!

lazy dazy

2008-10-02T13:11:00.005+08:00

mwrr... not having urgent work to do disorients me

i need:-
a haircut
fruits
an espresso machine

only 1 out of 3 is feasible right now but no matter

i want:-
*cough* nevermind
also vaguely tempted by the sound of Jo Malone's nectarine blossom and honey scent. hmm... $80. frig
papaya salad

yum!
toodle doo

oh right, clothes..

hehehehe

2008-10-01T23:09:00.004+08:00

so.
I'm painting my nails OPI's 'go on green'. it's that pale blue-green shimmer someone though might be bitchy looking but it's actually not.
in between chatting with a friend online. and this is a snippet:

IP says:
but I'm a boy

IP says:
it'll be kinda weird painting my nails...

jeen says:
you could paint them with...

jeen says:
(wait again)

jeen says:
http://glossifieds.blogspot.com/search?q=man+glaze

jeen says:
hahaha

IP says:
ewewewewewewewewewewewew

IP says:
dowaaan!

jeen says:
hahahaha

jeen says:
just saying..

IP says:
yesh

jeen says:
eh, but it's not shiny

jeen says:
at all!!

IP says:
I'm. Not. Painting. My. Nails. Period.

jeen says:
dammit

jeen says:
wait, when i get back

jeen says:
you'll get to see my fabolous coloured nails

jeen says:
and then you'll want some for yourself!

IP says:
omg...you so used to do this as a kid, didn't you?

IP says:
tie up boys and paint their nails?

jeen says:
tsk

jeen says:
nope

jeen says:
i put gold glitter on the seat of their chairs though

IP says:
how mean!

IP says:
wasting all that gold glitter

IP says:
!

jeen says:
so not wasted... it shows up really well on brown pants

hehhehheh.. I can't believe I used to do that. good times.. much more innocent times too

but the present is good too. complex maybe, but all the richer for the complexity

stretch

2008-10-01T02:50:00.003+08:00

first full draft done
almost full
no concluding section yet
because
word count 19800
not including (3) diagrams and TOC and appendices
need to dream up a title
and put together bibliography properly instead of mumbo jumbo state is in now
stop tinkering and adding stuff
for now

'lost in translation?: Local Agenda 21 in Malaysia and and the limits of participation'
hehehehe
hmm.. i like that

going to rock me gold nails tomorrow
wont dry in time for sleep tonight
hate smudged nails
zzzz