an indelible mark

In the deep recesses of my heart, there is a familiarity attached to a someone who was part of my life. It's funny how some people just rub off you during the period you related to them; unknowingly, they have left an indelible mark that you cannot erase from your memory or heart. And when the time comes when you realize that meeting the same person now evokes the same level of familiarity in your heart and yet a new, disconcerting surge of emotions you cannot hide, you inevitably choose to try to forget, to alleviate a little of that disturbing incongruence. try to, because it takes effort to do something that you can never choose to do, that is, to wholly forget. someone once asked me how it's possible to claim that you forgive without forgetting. the answer simply is that forgiving is a choice and forgetting is an instance of the waves of time washing it away when you weren't looking.

you inevitably try not to notice the smallest things about the person that you never knew you noticed in the first place. i think that was a point made by Celine in Before Sunset. it's one of my all-time favorite movies because they capture the inner process of thinking and feeling and trying all the time to reconcile the two. It's how i lead my life, it's how i handle my innermost thoughts and so the familiarity of the conversations between the protagonists grip my thoughts and engage my heart.
But it's been a long time since i re-watched it. Perhaps another time, another pensive occasion.

Does time move fast enough for the waves to come crashing in? Or does it have to happen when you aren't looking? i always play the game of "i'm-not-looking!" when i really am, in vain hope that by pretending that i'm not noticing, i will somehow speed up the process of forgetting.

Doesn't quite work that way, doesn't it. The waves aren't actually connected to your thought waves, though they may have properties that seem pretty similar. They oscillate between the peaks and troughs; you know it, but you can't get out of the hum-drum pattern. Your consciousness of the next inevitable movement doesn't get you to your destination any faster or make the journey any easier for you. You can only look to the larger whole, the prevailing pattern that extends beyond your momentarily troubles ahead.

i think that's called faith.

New York New York

Third day in New York and i'm only blogging about it now because it's a city that never sleeps and i haven't either, so that i can take it all in. i love it here. was miserable for a while because travelling in a group always results in people stepping others' toes. after i made the moral decision to go solo and do what my heart desires, everything seems alot better. able to say this after some good ol' retail therapy :D New York is the true shoppers' paradise ANYTIME. wheee.


One thing quirky is that there's been 4 instances of guys trying to hit on me in the span of 2 days. it's just curious.. is that part of the New York culture anyway?

"Hey miss, are you single?"

"nah" -smiles and walks on-

"oh really? you want to talk about it?"

"nah" - smiles and walk somemore-

"are you sure you don't want to talk to me about it?"

wah. not very exciting pickup lines. i think i should actually continue the conversation a while longer the next time it happens to see what New York men can come up with. they are rather direct though, during lunch when i was out at Sixth Avenue this bunch of men in uniform stopped their car at a bend, rolled down the windows and tried to strike up conversation.

in the middle of New York with the whole world bustling around, feels like straight out of a movie.

Chopin Opus 69 No.2 in Bminor

one of my favourites.

Ryuichi Sakamoto

The Other Side of Love

i decided i won't sleep, without playing this song on repeat before i drift off to sleep each night. It has a draw on me i cannot explain, just like how i fall in love with words and people i can never explain why or how. Such is love; nuanced, confusing yet full of conviction never to regret when it's all over.

Interview with Carl Pullen at Yale

I whisked into the Sterling Memorial Library at noon on a Wednesday afternoon and there was Carl Pullen sitting at the security desk, in his pristine security uniform. Same steady gaze. We moved to a small security room beside the entrance and started to talk about him over lunch. 66 year old Pullen is an African American, burly, full time security personnel at Sterling, clocking hours daily from 8.30am till 5pm. The pay is considered good, for easy work that required no manual labour or “exhausting of brain juices” to quote him. Compared to Pullen’s previous jobs, being a security guard to check if students were smuggling books out of Sterling Memorial Library and directing people to the right places was to him, more of leisure pastime than work.

Born in Virginia and moved to Connecticut when he was four years old, Pullen had spent time at different parts of the world, from Spain, Italy, France, Greece, Lebanon during his time with the Marine Corps. His career with the Marine Corps started at a party when he was 17. A group of Marine Corps in their uniforms walked into a party where his friends and him were at and “got the attention of the girls”. Believing that they could beat the Marine Corps at their trade, Pullen and friends decided that they would join the Marine Corps the very next day.

They did.

Pullen made the decision to give up his basketball scholarship to college and joined Marine Corps. Although he made no mention of girls and parties during his recount of those days, the formal military training that he received proved to be useful for his 13 year career with the New Haven State Police afterwards. There he learnt about weaponry, military discipline, marching and enjoyed the excitement of visiting each new country he was at. After he left the Marine Corps, he went on to a vocation which he describes as a job that “deals with people, help people” and makes him feel good as people respect him.

With pride he showed me his gold retirement badge from the New Haven State Police.

As a detective dealing with hard crime, Pullen didn’t think he was doing dangerous work; he always had his men with him. His time at the State Police saw him doing investigative work at the Fraud department, cracking down on fraud cases concerning welfare, medical issues and construction. He then rose to the rank of Sergeant and was in charge of Division of Special Revenue for a time. Pullen was involved in some of the most high profile cases in Connecticut in the 1960s and 1970s. He went to San Francisco to arrest Bobby Seale, the Co-founder of the Black Panthers, who was charged with the murder of Alex Rackley. Another assignment saw him arresting Philip and Daniel Berrigan; both brothers were priests and listed as FBI Ten Most Wanted Fugitives, charged for destroying military drafts in protest of the Vietnam War.

When asked about his most difficult assignment in his career as a detective, he paused as he recollected the case. After a brief period of silence, he recounted the case of a woman who had been stabbed 26 times. It was a case with no leads, but Pullen found a license plate key on the deceased which led him to track down the deceased’s previous address. Relying on his detective intuition, he interviewed people and tracked down the deceased’s old address and there he managed to find witnesses who heard the deceased shout out a name during an argument with her murderer. It turned out to be her boyfriend whom she had an affair with. With that very first lead, Pullen managed to crack the case.

Pullen is a man of brains and brawn. With a black belt in Taekwondo, Pullen taught the other police officers in the department the martial art. However, Pullen’s first loves remain to be basketball and baseball. He did not have to regret his decision to give up his basketball scholarship when he was 17, as he completed his Masters in History and Social Sciences and taught at University of Bridgeport even when he was with the State Police in 1991. After his retirement, he decided to join Library Security at Sterling Memorial to pass time. In his spare time now, he goes to the gym, church and occasional vacations with his family, to Poconos of Pennsylvania.

When 30 minutes was up, I bid farewell and thanked Pullen for his time. He gives a sturdy farewell handshake and held his gaze, just like how a detective does it.

my first interview assignment! It was a really good time, though i was nervous and Pullen was very aware of that. i thoroughly enjoyed the process of talking to him, and writing about him. I must admit that i was nearly paralyzed by fear, to just randomly go up to a stranger to request for an interview. My instructor Shapiro was really encouraging, and said that even a veteran human rights reporter like him sometimes feel the trepidation before an assignment too. No matter you're an extrovert or introvert (which i take that he can tell i'm an introvert), there is this internal barrier a journalist has to overcome to talk to people. This is especially so if you have to call up the family of the deceased to report on a death.

I guess, this is a good start for a rookie like me :)

update

i started to get really homesick this morning, waking up to a sore throat and being a state of sickness made me think of my mum who always give me medicine when i'm sick and i spiralled into this i-wanna-go-home-now feeling. doesn't help that Sam reminded me over MSN that i'm half the world away. after a period of getting myself together, i promptly decided that washing my face with tears in the morning is not too good so i decided to be conducive and spend the day reading in the sun with nette and jan.

Tips on how NOT to get homesick

1. Keep yourself busy and connected with the world around you. DO NOT mope in your single dorm no matter how tempting it is. DO NOT attempt to work on stressful work.

2. DO NOT fall sick. this is a hard one. but even if you do, PRETEND that you're not sick. you will soon overcome it.

3. Say Hi to people on the streets and around college instead of getting into the i-shall-pretend-i-haven't-seen-you mode. preferably a loud chirpy HELLOOOOO.

4. when faced with the option of Supper at Sam Adams and sleeping early and work, make your decisions in that order of priority.

Human interaction and lame jokes and laughter create a sense of (sometimes false) solidarity and it gives you a feeling that everything is alright and we're still in lovely Singapore (not that hard since there're a bunch of us).

[i did my laundry today! and i finally mustered enough courage to walk up to a security guard, Pullen, at Sterling Memorial to ask him if i could interview him for my Investigative Journalism assignment. People here in United States are generally more friendly me thinks. i think it's because Asians are kinda exotic here (lol what a weird commentary but i think it's true) so people on the streets take a second look and they generally smile and say hi. i've learnt to cultivate the good habit of not averting my eyes, hold the gaze for an extra split second and say "How're u doin'" the problem is that it's quite a mouthful so "Hello" will suffice and "hi" will have to do when i'm losing my voice. thinking how i can bring this friendliness back to Sg. they always say that "change has to start from yourself". ramble ramble. ]

my prince

He is no fool. First he makes sure that this really is the content of his life, for his soul is too healthy and too proud to squander the least thing upon a mere inebriation. He is not cowardly, he is not afraid of letting love creep into his most secret, his most hidden thoughts, to let it twine in innumerable coils about every ligament of his consciousness; if the love becomes an unhappy love, he will never be able to tear himself loose from it. He feels a blissful rapture in letting love tingle through every nerve, and yet his soul is as solemn as that of the man who has drained the poisoned goblet and feels just how the juice permeates every drop of blood - for this instant is life and death.

- Excerpt from Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling

my prince, is to be a knight of Faith, someone who knows what he wants and where he's going, someone of courage and conviction, unafraid to love.

there's something about reading Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling in such a beautiful setting, a Sunday afternoon reading in the courtyard of Sterling memorial library.

The Library itself was magnificent.


on my way back from the library, passed by the Sterling Law building:
after dinner, Lucas and i went for evening service at Trinity Baptist Church. The congregation was small, but the Spirit of God was there, and a great worship band.

On our way back after detouring to the Green to check out the outdoor performance for tonight:

isn't it cute? the car from CARS! haha. i like how the headlights look like they're eyes with eyelashes. pretty.

the twelve

i find it a little amusing that there are 12 of us taking Evil at Yale this summer. ALMOST resonant with the story of the 12 disciples. except that if it were true it'll keep you guessing who'll be Judas.

Spike Lee came to New Haven today and i saw his work on Hurricane Katrina and the inefficiency of the Bush Administration in response to the disaster. and questions about Evil just flooded my head. i could instinctively say that it was disgusting how Bush ignored New Orleans to put his mind to greater matters like expand his oil empire in Iraq. Disgusting how the insurance companies refused to pay the victims because their insurance do not cover "flood insurance". disgusting because the underdog are the down and out. disgusting because the old and handicapped were trapped in Superdome to slowly die of heat and lack of food and water. Hurricane Katrina was in all ways a human disaster rather than a natural one, where human beings progressively butchered others through justifications and turning a blind eye on what has to be done. the fact that none of the officials stepped out to refute any detail in that 4 hour feature film just proved how accurate it was. not the complete picture (no story can ever be a full picture of what happens in an event) but enough to be testimony of how the top men (and women, counting Rice) in power today in the most powerful country have been corrupted by their self interest to see figures as living flesh and blood.

i can't help but grieve at the state of human existence.


i couldn't resist taking a close-up of the sculpted figures on the beam. i mean, sculpted figures that are so elaborate are everywhere; it never ceases to amaze me.
During the Q & A with Spike Lee, you could tell almost immediately he's cynical how anything can change within the government, and more generally, how the world can ever be a more equal place. the powerful stay in power to get more power to translate into economic gains. a vicious cycle that doesn't end. yet i think that the very act of directing such feature films, is something already.

We then headed down for the high-class BBQ for Writing and Film studies students. we thought it was a typical DIY BBQ singapore-style but in good ol' england fashion, waiters in tuxedos did the BBQing as we sat under the sky in the cold wind enjoying the good fare. i'm quite sure i'm turning fat fast but i'm trying not to think about it too much.

off to New Haven Green for some good Jazz music. it's the Festival of Arts and Ideas, so outdoor performances are held on the Green at night. People come with mats and fold-able chairs, just camping out on the lawn :

random fly on the wall

one thing that amanda got right is that she said it's probably very interesting to be a fly here on the wall at Yale. it's very apt and true. I'm actually happy not to say nothing at all sometimes, just to observe and listen closely to what people say.

greetings from Yale!

Payne Whitney Gym - indoor basketball courts

Payne Whitney Gym - indoor track

one thing that amanda got right is that she said it's probably very interesting to be a fly here on the wall at Yale. it's very apt and true. I'm actually happy not to say nothing at all sometimes, just to observe and listen closely to what people say. i've been wanting to blog everyday to show pictures of what i see and record what i hear but i've just been so busy experiencing it that i've found it hard to sit down and write about it. i'm not complaining. in fact, i think i should do myself justice by just soaking in it while i can. let me just say that the food here at Yale is fantastic, nothing like the crappy food in NUS halls. and trust me when i say the desserts are even better than those you find at NYDC and what not. the bestest and most alarming is that it's buffet style for all 3 meals. i'm going to be a fatso when i get back but it's ok i'm going to live my life to the fullest now. besides, the gym is really fantastic:

Payne Whitney Gym exterior

much more majestic that my phone camera can capture, but trust me, it feels like a castle standing in front of it. hard to imagine the modern equipment and large arrays of machines inside. didn't dare to take a picture of the actual gym - don't want to be such an overt suakoo haha.

Linsly Chittenden - Classroom

Linsly Chittenden - interior

here's where my classes are held. the whole physical presence of the place awakens the intellectual in you; it becomes no longer an ostentious pursuit, but reminds you that knowledge and the spirit of inquiry and debate is the essence of being alive.

random street views on my way to school

(yes all the buildings are this breathtaking- even more so than what u see)

random street sights around the neighbourhood

just remember that no matter how deceivingly sunny it looks, it's really chilly. i'm getting used to it now and loving the weather. it's the best of both worlds with the sun reining in the audacity of the cold. same street, but the latter is actually a much colder day than the former:


way back to Morse

roomy comfy spacy Morse Library, taken from the second level.

haven't been to the heavenly Sterling Memorial Library, but i know that it's more breathtaking than any library you will see, just looking at the exterior. i promise photos soon! and yes, i walk past the Harkness Tower everyday and i take a photo everytime i walk past because her beauty never ceases to stop my feet from going further. i may not be an architect but as a living human being attuned to the notion of beauty, i can't help myself.

okay enough hard selling of Yale, time to dig into Plato's Gorgias for Evil class. can i add that Yale is really big on copyright laws that they charge you for copyright on top of printing services? the coursepack for Evil costs USD36.5 (without binding) and USD42 (with binding) on top of 4 books to buy and read. woolala. but i think the money is well spent. being here just convinces me that knowledge is worth the price to pay.

oh btw, we watched Woody Allen's Crimes and Misdemeanors last night for Evil too and i'm in love with that genius. this Saturday, the writing and film students (me included coz investigative journalism) are given tickets to go to the screening of "When the Levees broke" and to meet the director Spike Lee. the man himself. gosh. exciting.

sorry for the randomness. it's 1am here in New Haven and 1pm in Singapore.

oh can i re-enact this conversation i had with kristopher from my Investigative Journalism class?

me: you know i found it weird that sirens go off every hour without fail here in New Haven

Kris: (grins broadly) well, this is New Haven for you. I actually come from Middlefield where my neighbours are a mile away and the population of cows is equal to the human population. so what i hear all the time are not sirens but

Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

i was hysterical. hahahahahahaaha

HELLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo from New Haven!

Bet you a dime that you've started to miss me already ;)

the stopover at Frankfurt was literally a stop. this was all i saw of Germany:

Still a little jetlagged now but had a fabulous sleep. The weather here at New Haven is fantastic, you feel like you’re in an airconditioned place PERPETUALLY. Except that it had been raining lightly but steadily for the past 2 days. Much like the monsoon periods in Singapore.

Morse College-Dining Hall

interior of Harry Potter-ish Dining Hall
(i've come to fall in love with brick walls and buildings)

Woke up this morning and told my reflection in the mirror, no more making small talk when I don’t want to, but only when I genuinely want to be friendly. I’m too jetlagged, tired and grouchy to truly make friends with the other international students yet. I’ve been discovering some things about myself as well. never really thought about it that much but in Yale where most people are rather vocal and verbose, knowing how to maintain, lead and flow with conversation; my aura of silence and deep thinking stands in contrast. I’ve been learning to be more assertive, direct and basically stronger when expressing my opinion. It’s been a little uncomfortable somewhat, but I’m learning to externalize my thought process.

potted plants just outside my suite

my spacious and comfortable room

The Singapore bunch’s (10 of us) gelling quite well though. Such an irony that the intellectual stimulation thusfar has been mainly learning through conversations with the rest of the NUS people. Everyone is knowledgable about stuff ranging from philosophy,, history, art, film, politics that conversations are never dull and superficial. Not that we all know EVERYTHING, but learning from each other has proved to be so enriching. I must commend the boys for being rather chivalrous. Lucas walked me in the rain twice and helped me with my luggage when I first reached. Weilong gave up his umbrella for the girls when it rained. Yingting has proved to be quite promising shopping escort. Suresh’s been friendly and nice. I like the synergy in the group, although the bunch who traveled New York are a little closer to each other. Generally, friendly vibes I just wish that one of the girls will stop using American language. Referring to girls as “chicks” and boys as “dudes” and using "shit like that" in place of "etc" every conversation is reminiscent of too much American TV and sitcoms baby.

more of Morse College

view of The Green on my way to Yale.

(there was some sort of rather rowdy rally going along which involved the Hispanic community. it may be because of Freedom Writers, i have this strange affection for the Hispanics. )

I love being here here at Yale because everything from the campus to the people to the food even, stimulates you to think and debate. The environment is such that there is no academic pressure, only academic appreciation. the class on EVIL today was awesome. There were older seniors from Yale, graduate students and a return student who decided to come back to school after taking over his father’s automobile company. The diversity of people here is just amazing.

Safety seems to be a concern though, we’ve repeated been reminded that like every other city, there is crime and it pays to be vigilant. Think it sounds like Singapore rhetoric? A fellow student was mugged at gun point just outside my college (equivalent to hall in NUS) last night. From my room I’ve been hearing police sirens quite frequently for the past 2 days. there it goes again, even as i'm typing this at 8pm at night. The city given has police escort services and there are Yale transit buses to ferry you back to campus at night if you feel unsafe. Each student is given an electronic key to get pass the main gate of our college, a key to the entry way to your block, a third key to your suite (group of 4 rooms) and a 4^th, which is a room key. Great security there, but reveals the extent of danger that warrants such vigilance. Supper outside of the campus is rather unthinkable; at least we haven’t gotten brave enough to. But nothing about the physical space gives me bad vibes; I just love it here. It’s like a sleepy town waiting to be discovered. The architecture is amazing and speaks of intellectual diginity; from Yale to churches to historic buildings and town houses. I just wish that I could explore the town at night.

blogger.

i don't read alot of blogs. was googling around and i found this random blog
, apparently one of my juniors in school, whom i never had the chance to know. the thrill of reading familiar thoughts that once went through my mind, and current thoughts that preoccupy mine now. she loved Idealism too, a kindred spirit.

The soldiers that have trespassed on the ground of my mind the past week in no rank nor file:

Poetry is language symmetry, yinyang magic.

Lost in the music your heart will be mine.

mystress - tryst - mistrust

Ugly competition lurks around sentimental class reunions.

When I'm plugged in, the world becomes my mtv.

Everytime my eyes fall downward to my new scar, I feel human. My gaze clings to it the same way your mind lingers on the beauty of sadness. I feel resolved knowing that my skin communicates the constant agony in my head.

The people who have woken me up before are the ones I trust the most. There is something special in rousing me from my daily death. I trust you to bring me to life again.

I told Adeline: Happiness is not an achievement, it's a decision.

I poke fun at ugly couples because they dare to do what I don't.

The acute realisation that We are the Future hit me again.

Journalism is a mechanism for adding to the total amount of knowledge in the world.

I'll just be a companion. Grey. It will be a grand nothing day. Say yes. Say.

Stop doing things tomorrow.

I want to be able to hold your gaze when you ask about my history.

Everyone has got bets on each other.

Starry Starry Night

a lovely song. Went to search for it when i did a search on Van Gogh.
what do u think of when you read of Van Gogh's life story?
it seems to be such a heavy existence, to die without fulfilling all that he wants to do, to have his life ending in insanity. but i believe his existence is aptly represented by a country music piece such as Starry Starry Night. There is a solitary beauty in his works. a silent beauty that invites you to step in.

Here's an analysis from www.vangoghgallery.com.

Expressing Van Gogh's inspiration for the painting. However, one line says : "Look out on a summer's day." which is a false statement as Van Gogh was in an asylum at Saint-Remy, and was not able to paint picture from an actual view point, it is strictly from his mind.	Starry, starry night. Paint your palette blue and grey, Look out on a summer's day, With eyes that know the darkness in my soul. Shadows on the hills, Sketch the trees and the daffodils, Catch the breeze and the winter chills, In colors on the snowy linen land.
These are references to other Van Gogh paintings. Flaming Flowers: The Sunflower Series Swirling Clouds: Starry Night Field of Amber Grain: Wheat Field with Crows Weathered Faces: The Potato Eaters.	Starry, starry night. Flaming flowers that brightly blaze, Swirling clouds in violet haze, Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue. Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain, Weathered faces lined in pain, Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
This is Van Gogh's tragic Death. Even though he loved painting, his paintings could never love him back. Van Gogh attempted suicide by shooting himself in the chest, which ultimately led to his death two days later.	For they could not love you, But still your love was true. And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night, You took your life, as lovers often do. But I could have told you, Vincent, This world was never meant for one As beautiful as you.
Van Gogh's artistic legacy is contained within his paintings, drawings and writings. They are everlasting and will never "forget" the style that created them. They are Van Gogh's eyes that watch the world. This is all metaphorically speaking though.	Starry, starry night. Portraits hung in empty halls, Frameless head on nameless walls, With eyes that watch the world and can't forget. Like the strangers that you've met, The ragged men in the ragged clothes, The silver thorn of bloody rose, Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Finally we come to the conclusion of realizing Van Gogh's eternal struggle with insanity.	Now I think I know what you tried to say to me, How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free. They would not listen, they're not listening still. Perhaps they never will...

Boston

Boston - Augustana

In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun...
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,
This world you must've crossed... you said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,
You said
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,

Essential yet appealed, carry all your thoughts across
An open field,
When flowers gaze at you... they're not the only ones who cry
When they see you
You said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,
You said
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,

She said I think I'll go to Boston...
I think I'll start a new life,
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name,
I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather,
I think I'll get a lover and fly em out to Spain...
I think I'll go to Boston,
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind...
I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,
I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah,

Boston... where no one knows my name... yeah
Where no one knows my name...
Where no one knows my name...
Yeah Boston...
Where no one knows my name.

nice track, amazing video huh.

planning to stay in Boston after summer school. not sure how long i'll be there, perhaps long enough for me to feel sick of that place. or long enough for me to feel homesick. or long enough for money to run out. i need to plan an itinerary i guess. can't just go with my luggage and Lonely Planet in hand. Cool idea, bad plan. besides knowing that place, i just want to immerse myself in the suburbans. somewhere close to nature, not too far from city life as i know it. and imagine how my cottage might look like (so they even have cottages there?)

Sunscreen

Sunscreen
by Baz Luhrman


Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97,
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis or reliable then my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice....now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
Oh, nevermind, you won't understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded, but trust me in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind: the kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts; don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive; forget the insults. (if you succeed in doing this, tell me how).

Keep your old love letters; throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of Calcium. Be kind to your knees -- you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40; maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body: use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it; it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance...even if you have no where to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions (even if you don't follow them). Do not read beauty magazines; they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents; you never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings: they're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but what a precious few should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps and geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old; and when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you are 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of wishing the past from the disposal--wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me, I'm the sunscreen.

i have a dream

today was one of those suicidal days. but thank God for Ed who smsed from the Down Under. it made me feel better :) although i still don't quite get what you mean by your life being like a bubble about to burst :( sorry, it's poetic alright but i guess will have to wait for you to substantiate more when you blog.

Freedom Writers!

warning: mild spoiler ahead


and Thank God for speaking to me through Freedom Writers.
it totally refreshed me and gave me hope.
like it loads, but love God's raema word most of all because He's a wise king :)

after i sat through the movie, the Word that was impressed upon my mind, is this: This is what i mean by the gift of singleness. i was pleasantly surprised. i hadn't expected it.

i guess it's common to feel the anxiety in university. it seems like the biological clock is ticking so loud everyone in the Central Library lift can hear it go Tick Tock Tick Tock? Single guys fret about being able to pursue whichever girl who's latest on their radar. Single girls wondering if they'll ever get on someone's radar. the rhetoric and grammar might be different but the story more or less the same.

i don't know if the real Erin Gruwell gave up her marriage for the bunch of students but it spoke to me in a profound way. i can't remember the exact line but she said something along the lines of "when i bring about hope and meaning into their lives, i find hope and meaning in mine"? and in response her husband went ahead with the decision to opt for the divorce because he felt he was "asked to lead a life he didn't ask to". it was sad, but my take is that it happened because her husband didn't see the world the way she did; they were at different levels of growth, being preoccupied with different things.

to expand on it, she found her life mission after she got married and her husband wasn't part of that mission. and the gift of singleness is this: that you pursue your dreams with all your heart and mind, with no one else to share that perhaps, but it's that period of solo and privately intimate time when you're young and idealistic enough to grab hold of those castles in the air as blueprint for the concrete construction of your life. it's nice if you've a companion who's chasing it with you, but more blessed with the freedom and space to grow when you're solo.

so that, when two come together, they indeed become better than one :)

so don't worry if you're single. and don't be overly concerned if you've a friend who has remained single for a long time. read: ed, i'm talking about you. this might be the best period of their life yet ;)

being a princess

A good princess may occasionally let her guard down but only to emphasize how impeccable she generally holds herself. Even the noblest princess may occasionally let us see the chink in her purposeful armour, as a reminder that she is, finally human, all too human. In famine, flood or war she will speedily hitch up her skirts, muckin with the best of them, for the common good. At such times it may become clear that the most glamourous character traits which the princess personifies are courage, purpose and intelligence.

A Princess Tale.

birthday loot from soulmate. i know in my heart that it's true.
that being a princess has everything to do with the interior.
that we were created to be princesses.
thank you for that truth that has been forgotten, and then regained.

i'm still in the midst of celebrating my 21st. very grateful of course, that the gifts and well wishes are still pouring in. some have done so much and others have pretended to forget, but in my heart i found myself saying a silent "thank you" to them anyway, for having been part of my 21 years. some a greater part, others an earlier part, still others, little episodes that happened and then nearly forgotten. but i remember them all.

some memories have stood the test of time and denial and retained much authenticity. the feelings revisited and i have to unwillingly admit that things i had done or said, they are all true. that i had been honest with myself, more honest than the present me will admit.

because, the present me has the hindsight to hypocritically deny my past, to say that the past was nothing but a montage of foolishness and misguided decisions.

but no, the Lord has been very honest in dealing with me, and when i look back at my past squarely in the face, i know that all of me was true. i embrace and accept all of that and hope that as each of you is reading this, forgive me if i had hurt you and believe me that i've tried to be as authentic as i could have been.

thank you for the memories.

and sometimes, living in the consciousness that i'm creating new memories is exciting. i know what i'll remember. jeelee giving me mini lectures during PT, therie with her whole repertoire of endearing idiosyncrasies, jian and his cheem theories, me wincing at kc's comments, amanda and her kewl new look, qinghan forever saying that we should meet up someday, me in the solace of my favourite Central Library, me rushing around school, meeting people along corridors who brighten my day/make me wince/make me detour/make my heart race/make me shout a big hello...

of tiramisu and daisies

my favourite! had an iced tiramisu latte at Holland Village last night. it was heavy stuff. bitter, sober yet intoxicating. quite unlike the tiramisu that i tasted thus far.





then went to vivo today for lunch and of course i had to try out the tiramisu there. i was on a major tiramisu crusade.

the said tiramisu didn't disappoint at all. soft, fluffy with a hint of espresso and wine. i can't get enough of it.
the mushroom pizza's the best thing out of everything we tried.

my birthday loot for the day, a good book on portrait drawing :) i don't care if i have less than a week to finish my forensic paper. i really don't!:


my towering birthday cake, which we ate under a shelter, in the rain around us, at the corner of Labrador park:



i got a lovely red daisy today too. my favourite flower of all. i love daisies. little sunflowers which don't grow up to be sunflowers.