post 32. another good day

another good day. ^^

when buying hot chocolate at angazi with simon this morning, was served by a blond girl with a ponytail and the cutest smile i seen in a while. dimples, eyes that crinkle, and she had those little sharp incisors that you either find incredibly adorable or disgusting. a quick glance at her tag revealed her name was "christine" or "christina". made me randomly smile to myself for the rest of the morning. it's quite nice to meet someone with a really pretty smile.

went back for lunch again with in sun, and hey, it was the blond girl with the great smile who served us again. lol. what are the chances? ^^ and she was quite conscientious too; was quite quick to pick up that they forgot a side-dish of potato salad i had ordered even though she wasn't the one who brought out the food. so that was why she was bobbing her head up and down at the counter and glancing over. ^^

surprising how much a nice person with a pretty smile can cheer me up so much.

walking home, sun was out and warm on the skin, looked up and saw the sky was that robin-egg shade of blue that i don't know how else to describe. breathed in the scent of earth and grass and flowers, and yes, it is a good day.

post 31. worth of a person... dead

really should be studying, but the internet can be so addictive. stumbled onto this. hah. thought i would be worth more. barely 5k. that's less than half of my semester fees. >_<

$4975.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth. From Mingle2 - Dating Site

Mingle² - Dating Site

post 30. Wayne Coyne plays Taps

Taps, also sometimes known as Day is Done, is the tune played in the United States Army to mark "lights out" and is also played at military funerals. It is the most famous military tune, apparently, as it was played at JFK's funeral and was thus heard world-wide. There are numerous stories about the origin of Taps, but I'll leave that for you to Google/Wiki it up. ^^ Taps is usually played on a bugle or trumpet; there is a current shortage of buglers in the States so that at some funerals, only a tape recording of the piece can be provided.

Anything I want to say about this piece of music, well, the dude has said it well enough.

Why a post about Taps? Hmmm, long story. It has to do with a submarine known as the Hunley. Used in the Civil War, it was the first submarine to successfully sink a warship. And the most amazing thing of all, it was hand-powered. By 8 men, 7 to power the sub, 1 to steer.

The courage, or desperation, that drove these men, it is quite frightening. 8 men trying to take down a 1800-ton warship through the sheer might in their arms. Madness or courage, or a little of both.

The Hunley completed its mission successfully, but unfortunately, sank on the way back. All crew members perished at their posts.

Again, there is a famous legend about the captain of the Hunley, Lt George E. Dixon. Dixon was given a gold coin by his sweetheart as a good luck charm and a token of her love. Dixon kept the gold coin with him always, and as the story goes, it saved his life when he was shot in the leg during the Battle of Shiloh, which took place before he took on command of the Hunley.

Anyway, when they finally raised the remains of the Hunley a few years ago, they found a gold coin with one of the crew members, who was later verified to be Dixon through DNA testing. The gold coin was bent in the middle and engraved with the following:

Shiloh
April 6, 1862
My life Preserver
G. E. D.

Life is sometimes more romantic than fiction, huh?

So what has all this got to do with Taps? Not much, except that all 8 crew members of the Hunley were buried with full military honours, and during the ceremony they played Taps. And I just wanted to hear what Taps sounded like. That is all.

post 29. pancakes IS our friend ^^

one of the major food staple in our house is, not rice or pasta as expected in a house inhabited by 3 hungry guys, but pancakes!

pancakes are faster to cook than rice, more satisfying than plain old pasta, and fill you up to boot. you can have it deliciously sweet, drowing in syrup, or chuck some bacon or ham in there to make it more meaty for a real man's meal. ^^ and there is just something about the fragrant aroma of pancakes sizzling on the stove that just whets the appetite.

the best brand i have found so far is white wings. comes in a bottle. just add water, shake the hell out of it, and viola, just need to cook it up. i only ever tried doing pancakes from scratch once before, and really, i think the white wings actually taste better. less hassle.


this is just a view of how much we love pancakes in this house. 4 bottles in the pantry, 3 of them belonging to me, the other to simon.


more bottles, all nicely lined up.


another view. simon just loves mixing it up.


cooking in the pan. ummmmm~~ can you not smell the good stuff? ^^


presto. the final product. lol. delish. ^^

post 28. christina sends me a letter i wrote

itx interesting sometimes to look back and see the stuff i used to write, to see the evolution or degeneration of my writing style. also, itx kind of a fragment of time captured on virtual paper, a reflection of the way i used to think.

so when christina mou said she still had all the emails i sent her before, i was very surprised and oddly touched that someone thinks so highly of my writing. then i shamelessly begged her to resend one to me so that i can take a look at what i wrote.

so here is one letter i wrote to some friends in the states before i flew here to perth. it must have been more than 3 years ago. i am still so touched by mou's action.

itx titled: of potatoes and other stuff

cooking has always held an subliminal attraction for me. to take fresh raw materials, and to chop and slice and dice, and in an frenized orgy of fire, heat, oils and butter, blend the various smells and tastes into a dish to whet the senses and nourish the heart- that has always seemed to me on a level with the divine, the act of creation through destruction, an experiience that is electricifying, mysterious, and yet quite mundane. that is why good cooks rate higher in my book than lawyers and doctors. and that is why i really hate bad food; restaurants that serve food smothered in overpowering gravies and sauces so that you can't even taste the food, should be shot and sent to burn in hell. that is also why my friends find it a pain to eat out with me. hahaha.
>
> to make it up to them for their long-suffering patience, i didn't mind too much when i had to prepare some food for a picnic. it doesn't sound very generous until you take into consideration a)they didn't bother to inform me until the afternoon before the picnic and b) the picnic was supposedly to celebrate (are they THAT happy to see me go?) my leaving for autralia for studies. shouldn't i, as the object of celebration, have to do nothing but show up and saunter around?
>
> at the end of the day, i learnt some things. preparing food is exhausting. from the selection, the preparation, to the final consumpation of the food, the process is more tiring than i expected. it took more me out to prepare twoscore sandwiches and a salad than to run for five klicks. when you run, you can at least expect a second wind; in cooking, you can't even let up for a while with no respite in sight.
>
> at this point, you're probably wondering what the point of this letter is. no, itx not really about cooking. the point of this letter is, i believe that everyone would like to mark the start of a new period in their lives with some commerative action, whether it be to go on an alcohol-fuelled night of debauchery and revelry or a quiet picnic by the beach. and it is usually best when shared with friends and people near and dear to the heart. what i'm trying to say, through all my wanderings and meanderings, is that, through this poorly-worded letter, i would like to share with you all this closing of one chapter in my life, and the start of a another.
>
> (if you thought that was long and convulated, imagine me trying to say it. i write better than i talk, so if i were to really try to say it all out, you would all still be hearing me talk about eggs and salads. as you can see, pc, i still have not rid myself of the habit of beating around the bush.)
>
> so before i leave on the 26th, i thought i should write to you all. the older i get, the more i identify with my heritage. the younger me would have just packed and left, with at most a curosry goodbye note, and letx not have all that so long, farewell bullshit. i was quite anglonized in my thinking, and i could never understand why the chinese took so long over goodbyes. in one of the rare few chinese novels that i have read (Wu Song Kicks the Crap Out of Some Tiger), the host sends our protagonist off, walks with him to some inn, lingers over a few cups of wine, walks with him some more, and finally cries when he has to turn back. i thought that was the gayiest thing ever, and swore that would never happen to me. better the stoic cowboy way of blowing town without saying goodbye to anyone. i was secretly embarassed by all things chinese, and good riddance to all those rituals and meaningless courtesies. goodbyes are, however, more than a form of courtesy; they are a form of reassurance, reassurance to those who are leaving that those who are left behind will be safe and well, and a mute achknowledgement of our mortality. to have met and known, is that not something precious and to be treasured, for who knows when we will meet again?
>
> i have talked enough by now, if not too much, so let me end here. i hope that this finds you all happy and well, and i hope to be able to hear from you soon.
>
> and in case you were wondering what potatoes had to do with all this, well, i still have a basket of potatoes left and i was planning to have baked potato tomorrow.

i don't really remember what picnic we had. i am terrible in that way, in that i forget things quite easily. oh wait, actually, itx starting to come back some. i think it was a picnic at sentosa that i had with gary, crystal, lynn and her bf i think. and for some reason, lynn went swimming in the sea and there was a bottle of red in there somewhere i think. hmmm. i am sure that happened, but not sure if it was the picnic i was writing about. i remember the sun was going down and hmmm, crystal's sunglasses or something. did she break them. lol. too long ago.

well, it was quite strange reading the stuff i wrote. itx like reading a familiar stranger's writings, not quite alien but then, not quite your own. i think i wouldn't say "gay" anymore and probably tone some things down too. but i really like "Wu Song Kicks the Crap Out of Some Tiger." that is vintage me. ^^ oh even then, i already liked running. cool. :p

post 27. cherri comes to visit.

hehe. awesome.

cherri stopped by from brisbane to visit. poor girl was delayed for 24 hours before finally arriving in perth. lol. the fog i had some so much fun running in actually meant that planes couldn't land.

oh well. at least she had the grand tour of australia's major cities. ^^

so here i am, taking care of cherri in perth. :P

awesome. more taking care of cherri at my place. ^^

oh la la. bedroom. ahem. yep. i take good care of cherri. poor mel hon on my right, the innocent bystander sucked up in my nefarious plans.

betrayed! being hauled off in cuffs for taking too much care of cherri. >_<

the infamous cuffs that were clapped on my wrists. everyone is so fascinated by them. they're just cuffs.

in all seriousness, thanks for dropping by, cherri. party wouldn't have been the same without you. too bad we didn't get to talk more. the-reason-for-my-need-to-drink-to-sleep was at the party. did u know? ^^. bet you couldn't tell. hehehe. my life is so dramady. ^^

till next time i guess. perth or brisbane. who knows? ^^

post 26. The Cat Meets More Friends.

The Cat was traveling east on the way to the Beach of Silvery Surf to collect some sand for a friend.

The sun was high in the sky and merrily blazing away. It was very hot, and the Cat dearly wished that hanging the tongue out like some Dogs do helped. But it was to no avail. Maybe, Dogs just have bigger tongues or thinner coats. The sun happily continued blazing away, heedless of the Cat's fist being angrily shaken at it.

The Cat was therefore very surprised to see a small raincloud hanging by the side of the road. There were no other clouds in the otherwise clear sky. What was even more surprising was that the raincloud seemed to be floating above one spot only and not moving, and a miniature storm seemed to be pouring from it. The Cat could see torrents of rain lashing down and even occasionally, tiny bolts of lightning.

Unable to resist the mystery, the Cat walked closer to the raincloud. Cats, as we all know, are curious creatures; sometimes, too curious for their own good. Many Cats have gotten into unpleasant situations from being too inquisitive, and that is where the saying, "Curiousity killed the Cat" came from.

When the Cat got closer, the Cat could see that there was a figure sitting under the thundercloud. Curiousier and curiousier, the Cat thought and proceeded to sneak up very, very carefully to the figure.

It was a Panda.

And the Panda was crying very badly.

Feeling somewhat sorry for the Panda, the Cat decided to find out what was wrong.

"Hello." The Cat waved at the Panda.

The Panda turned a bleary face to the Cat. Tears were pouring down in continuous streams and huge goblets of snot were dribbling down and hitting the sodden ground like ponderous cannon balls. It was a horrific sight.

The Panda tried to reply, choked, tried again, and finally settled for a forlorn little wave. Rain was turning the patch of ground the Panda was sitting on into a little mud pool.

"Hello. I'm Cat. Is there anything I can do to help?"

No reply. Just a sad little shake of the round head. A tiny bolt of lightning arced down, struck the Panda's ears, and proceeded to dance madly between them before fizzling out.

"I'm traveling east to the Beach of Silvery Surf. Would you like to hear why?"

No reply again. Just a little shrug of the shoulders, as if the Panda could not really care if the Cat stayed or went.

So the Cat sat down and proceeded to tell the Panda the reason for traveling to the Beach of Silvery Surf. It was a somewhat sad story, which was the reason the Cat choose it, for sometimes hearing about others in similar situations can make one feel slightly better.

At the end of the story, the Panda was not crying as hard as before, although there were still occasional bouts of sniffles and tearing. The Cat also observed that the rain cloud was not storming as hard as before, and the lightning seemed to have stopped.

Seeing that the Panda seemed to be feeling somewhat better, the Cat decided to find out why the Panda was feeling so sad. "Would you like to tell me why you are crying?"

After some hem-ing and haw-ing on the part of the Panda, and considerable persuasion on the part of the Cat, the Panda finally told the reason why it was feeling so sad.

The Panda was in love with a boy. But the Panda was not sure if the boy felt the same way. And the Panda was afraid to tell the boy because the Panda had been hurt before by other boys. Sometimes, the Panda thinks the boy feels the same way, and sometimes the boy seemed indifferent. Unsure of the outcome, and afraid of being hurt again, the Panda decided to give up all hope on being with the boy. But not being with the boy was very painful, and that was why the Panda was sitting there crying under a raincloud, which at this point had stopped storming and was just raining steadily.

"You're being very silly," the Cat said when the Panda finished its story. "You're scared of being hurt so you decide not to tell the boy how you feel. But not being with the boy is so painful now, you're sitting here letting rain pour on your head. If I were you, I would tell the boy how I feel. Who knows? The boy may like you too, but is just as scared of being hurt as you. And if you tell him, you two may end up very happy together. If the boy doesn't like you, at least you wouldn't be feeling worse than you are now. But even if you do end up feeling worse than now, you would have a better reason for that than being too afraid to tell. At least you gave it a chance. And you know what, that is the most important thing of all: that you gave it a chance and didn't let it slip away."

The Panda was silent but finally gave a little nod to indicate acknowledgment.

Seeing that there was nothing more to be done, the Cat said goodbye to the Panda and left. When the Cat turned to wave goodbye, the mini raincloud seemed to be breaking up and dispersing, and most surprising of all, a tiny sun seemed to be coming out from behind the receding storm heads.

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

After the conversation with the Panda, the Cat was feeling a little tired and decided to find a place to nap awhile.

The Cat was quite annoyed therefore, when a stunningly handsome Peacock suddenly flew out of the sky and landed on the road in front.

"Hello," said the Peacock, preening hurriedly some ruffled feathers. "Are you the Cat who talked to the Handkerchief under the tree?"

"Yes, I am Cat."

"Handkerchief said you could give me some advise." The Peacock continued preening, even though it seemed to the Cat that all the feathers were in place already and shining brightly with gloss.

The Cat sighed quietly. If I were indeed that clever, the Cat thought, I wouldn't be feeling the way I do now. Still, a request for help cannot be ignored. "Let's take a seat under that tree," the Cat pointed at a sprawling oak.

When they were both comfortably seated, the Cat turned towards the Peacock, who was now practicing furling and unfurling the beautiful fan of tail feathers. "What can I do for you?" the Cat asked.

"Handkerchief said you give good advise." The Cat was secretly amused by how intent the Peacock was on furling the fan of tail feathers.

"Sometimes hearing another person's point of view can help. I wouldn't say I give good advise. What may work for me may not work for you. Everyone is different. All I can do is show you another point of view."

"Hmmmph." The Peacock was now lifting one claw at a time, intently examining for any scratches or defects. "Well, anyway, I need some help."

"I'm all ears."

"I need the same advise you gave Handkerchief. You know, relationships stuff."

"What do you mean? A handsome fellow should have no problems with the ladies." The Cat couldn't resist poking a little jibe at the Peacock.

"I can't keep a serious relationship. Oh, I get lots of girls and all that, but it's all just very casual and fun, you know? But after a while, it gets tiring. And I would like to try for something more meaningful, rather than just having someone nice to go out and look good with. Someone to talk to and actually get something back, and not feel they are with you just because we look good together."

"Like I said, I don't see the problem here."

"Hmmmpf," the Peacock made a little noise in the back of the throat. "The nice girls, well, the ones who I want to go out with anyway, don't seem to be interested in me." The Peacock said that with a vague air of embarrassment, as if surprised that there are people who can resist the Peacock's stunning good looks.

"Peacock, you are a handsome fellow. No, I'm not saying that to make you feel better. A fact is a fact. However, when I look at you, I see someone who is screaming, 'Look at me! Look at me! Look how handsome I am!' And the nice girls can sense that, and they don't want to be with someone who pays more attention to himself than to them. I don't think anybody really wants that."

"But I can't help the way I look!"

"No, no, of course not. But rather than trying to show off your natural good looks, how about trying to find your beauty in their eyes. Rather than thinking, 'Look at me! I'm handsome, be with me!, try thinking this: 'I'm handsome only because of the way you look at me.' "

"What? That doesn't make much sense!"

"No? I'm sorry I can't be more clear."

With an affronted snort, the handsome Peacock flew off in a thundering of beating wings.

The Cat felt weary but knowing that sleep would not help, continued eastwards.

Small round hills started appearing, gently folding the landscape, and the trees, which had been constant companions throughout the journey, slowly faded away to be replaced by fields of green grass. The grass was lush and waved slowly in the breeze like sleepy, bobbing little heads, and as the Cat journeyed on, the fields grew and grew until it seemed the Cat was walking amongst a giant green sea of strange sea plants.

And a few days later, there was a sound that made the Cat's ears prick up, and cause the Cat to pause a while, one paw lifted off the ground. And then, the Cat was suddenly running, running like a madman through the sea of grass.

Over the hills, there was the gentle roar of the sea.

currently reading

The Art of Living and Other Stories, John Gardner (1974)
In the Heart of the Heart of the Country, William H. Gass (1958)
The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan (1989)

seemed to be turning into quite a fan of ms tan. lol. she makes me feel so chinese. interestingly, didn't know she had lyme disease till yesterday, which is basically a neurological disorder that messes with your memory and motor skills. and seeing how physio course has been dealing so much with neurology so much these past 2 years, can understand how hard it is for someone to not be able to walk properly or walk around neighbourhood without getting lost. really really understand what she means when she talked about frantically trying to get words down on good days before she lost it again.

hmmm. been reading too much. must try to get some studying done. ^^ oh well, i was very sad then. but have not read so much for a very long time.

post 25. near my house

this is taken just behind my apartment, along a dingy alleyway flanked by run down buildings. find beautiful things in the strangest places.





saw a tree all aflame in red, and thought of my ex. we took pictures of this kind of tree before but we were living elsewhere. strange that i would be living at a place again where this tree grows.

post 24. hahaha

^^.

hey, no more sad writings. that's a good thing. lol.

looking back at some of the stuff written, hah, think maybe should frantically click click delete. but, hah, nah, it was worth that at least. dangers of blogging: indulge and divulge too much. lol.