Tam Lin and the Elf Queen

Had i known but yesterday what i know today, I"d have taken out your two gray eyes and put in eyes of clay, and had i known but yesterday you'd be no more my own, I'd have taken out your heart of flesh and put in one of stone.

See the love there that's sleeping

Today's about film. After the 3 films i've watched in the last 2 days, i feel compelled to mention them. First up, the early-anticipated Across the Universe, the semi-arthouse, semi-musical Beatles tribute film that relied WAY too much on corny puns and self-indulgent directing. (spoilers warning) The stupid 'she came in through the bathroom window' comment + the totally superfluous existence of the character Prudence (just so they could sing Dear Prudence) and the final image of Lucy literally in the sky with diamonds (with the song really playing in the background) did not do anything for originality. (spoilers over)

And this was a great scene. As you can guess, it was Strawberry Fields Forever- totally trippy, and they layered on the images of the Vietnam war, and if you can get over how contrived/cliched that whole theme is, it was a nice edge of violence they added to the song there.

Click here for the opening scene of the film (which is one of my favourite parts because it goes slightly downhill from here). If anyone's not a hardcore fan of the Beatles, I'd say give this one a skip. The songs aren't their most well-known ones, and the ballads are only thrown in for very halfhearted love scenes that could be edited out without much consequence. Very impressed with Evan Rachel Wood though, who actually sings most of the songs.

Songs to look out for: While My Guitar Gently Weeps- Martin Luther McCoy, Because- whole cast, Girl- Jimmy Sturgess, Blackbird- Evan Rachel Wood, Happiness is a Warm Gun- (the guy who played Max) , A Day in the Life- Jeff Beck, and the best one, Let It Be- Carol Woods and Timothy T. Mitchum.

Speaking of Evan Rachel Wood, I absolutely loved her in Running with Scissors.

A psycho memoir about two psycho families, totally dysfunctional, completely whacky and very sad at the same time. Loved the entire film- i was literally quite riveted for the entire 1.5 hours. Go watch it everyone! Annette Benning is a genius. Everyone has a little madness in them, the world is so strange it's oddly comical yet tragic at the same time, there is no escape for insanity, and homosexuality is made even more twisted. Is it wrong i found Benning's character's delusions of grandeur very endearing.

Here's a scene- Click here.

And last of all... 21 Grams. It's sort of one of those playing-around-with-editing-and-saturation kind of films.. slightly experimental, like Crash meets Memento meets Pulp Fiction (at least in terms of editing) meets all depressing films with themes like racism, fate, mortality and heroism. Not that i didn't like it. Del Torro was great, Naomi Watts was great, Sean Penn is always great, etc etc; the whole thing was just so.. exhausting.

The editing moves between the future, the present and the past, and while all that is very dramatic and atypical of Hollywood (ie, a good thing for the most part), the ending was just so typical. Like (spoilers warning) YES WE GET IT, we lose 21 grams when we die (loss=death), we retain that when we're alive (unless you need a heart in which you lose one and gain one back), we gain weight when we're pregnant (gain=life), life is precious, poor Jack, cocaine is bad, fate and mathematics entwine, tattoos can be removed with a hot butter knife, and even though the title is tantalising, the entire film barely touches upon the potential of this loss/gain theme(spoilers over). Man. That was exhausting.

Lets take the road before us

Music: Xmas Carols

Okay. I don't want to bore everyone with lengthy narrative, so let me shorthand everything for you. Since finding the USB cable for my camera, these are all the labels that belong to the photos:

Deck the halls

Xmas dinner

Bangkok trip that was fantastic.

This last one here's for Domi- do you even REMEMBER taking this photo???

Quotes.

Clifford: (Xmas eve, outside Zouk) You know, im such a snob.
Domi: Why?
Clifford: Because I'm thinking like, hey im way too good to be standing out here with all these people! I need aircon!

Me: Nick wake up!
Nick: -grunt-
Me: WAKE UP PLEASE
Nick: -grunt-
Me: Hey my eyes hurt! OMG they hurttttt
Nick: (shooting out of bed) where where what happened!
Me: HAHAHA just kidding .. i got you to wake up
Nick: I am going to get you back for that.

Playing SimCity4-
Me: Can i put a police station here??
Nick: You can put it anywhere you want silly
Me: yeah BUT if i put the police station near the schools the prisoners might escape and attack the children!
Nick: HAHA you have worries never heard of before in SimCity

Nick: Look! They're going to build a house for the Mayor!
Me: ooh! LET'S PUT IT NEXT TO THE HOSPITAL. That way, if we get assassinated, we can be rushed next door and might not die!
Nick: oh..sure.

Domi: OH HELLO, so your name is GABRIEL?
Gabriel: yes.
Domi: ARE YOU AN ARCHANGEL?

Love and be silent.

Merry Christmas all :)Watch this one.

there's a light that never goes out

Take me out tonight,
where there's music and there's people
And they're young and alive.
Driving in your car,
I never never want to go home.
Because I haven't got one,
Any more.

You know how people always talk about the 'honeymoon' period of relationships, where everything is new and fresh, no one argues, you just keep learning new things to prolong infatuation, you have your 'first' everything, and the all-famous butterflies and jitters.

How is it that no matter how tired we are, no matter how late the hour, even if we'd been fighting, i still feel a pang of sadness every single time i open the car door to get out at the end of the night?

Take me out tonight,
Take me anywhere, anywhere
I don't care I don't care I don't care.
And in a darkened underpass, I thought,
Oh god my chance has come at last.
But then a strange fear gripped me and i just couldn't ask.

I just want to know that some things are for me, and by that i mean JUST for me.

Quiet domino, bury me now

Music: Jesus, etc; Wilco
"don't cry, you can rely on me honey"

Lacan: The mirror is where we, as children, catch a first glimpse ourselves and recognise our reflections as a separate entity. Often we forget that this 'separate space' is not real, but an illusion, and a kind of ideal "I" that we aspire towards, but not embody.

So what is it about Lacan's 'Mirror Image' theory that is so cruel? The real "I" is so much more disappointing when we can see the ideal.


you were right about the stars,
each one is a setting sun.

I <3 International Relations

Exams, part deux, Political Science:

9 Chapters in syllabus
studied 1 chapter (International Relations)
5 questions in total
International Relations came out in 2 sections (ie, both essays)
started studying 1.5 hours before the exam started
2 hours for exam
2 questions
1 hour for first question
1hour25mins before i walked out of exam hall

So concludes the module that is the bane of my existence.

I <3 the Bell Curve

Exams Part un, 20th Century British Lit:

Studied 6 texts (Carter, Winterson, Beckett, Stoppard, Eliot, Yeats)
Left out 3 texts (Joyce, Woolf, Scottish poetry)
Spent 15 mins getting from 'Fragrant Plant Garden' to exam venue
Used 4 texts (Carter, Winterson, Beckett, Stoppard) on gender and Derrida
Wrote 9 sides
Went to the loo 2 times
Finished 10 mins early
Sat 2 seats away from Rohai
Panicked for 8 mins before deciding on questions
Didn't understand 78 words in Scottish poetry

Quotes of the day-

Rohai: (to Hana) eh how come you have these notes! WHAT IS THIS!

Lilly: Check out my notes for Joyce! (proudly displays 3 meagre sentences on huge sheet of blank paper).

Me: Lilly are you okay?
Lilly: i don't know!
Me: so what questions did you do?
Lilly: I DON'T KNOW!
Rohai: WHAT do you mean you don't know!
Lilly: I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW! (throws up his hands in despair)

Lilly: There is no exam; there is only death.

Rohai: (to me) eh how come you have this book! WHAT IS THIS!

Me: You know, i think we should have a sushi van that goes from place to place with conveyor belts flowing out the back, and a grill with a chef.
Lilly: OH MY GOD that is the best idea i've heard in my entire life.

Rohai: you know ah, i was halfway through my paper and then i realised, WHAT is this Dialogue of Self and Soul about?! WHAT IS THIS!

Dr. Yeoh: (at the end of the paper) So for you people, I'm sure all of you have Fergus' echoing in your heads eh? 'how great webs of sorrow/Lay hidden in the small slate-coloured thing!'

One final patronising kiss

And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

I think we're over the storm

Flying me back to Memphis,
Honey keep the oven warm.

Now hang me up to dry

I need a reality check. I have never been a fan of the 'love will grow' philosophy, but could it be that I was so afraid of lacking instant spark, that i forgot about the possibility of unsustainable love at first sight?

Either/Or

Music: Between the Bars ; Eliott Smith

"the things you could do/ you won't but you might"

Irony always seems to find us at our most despairing. I've spent the last week watching all 6 seasons of Sex and the City, and after cooping myself up rather unhealthily at home for the entire month, the invitations are in for parties - one week before exams. I'm utterly burnt out, not with studying, but with sitting on my ass watching TV.

Hot Piece of the Day:

A King Charles Spaniel Cavalier. This is what i want for Xmas, people. Don't forget.

But fire thought she'd really rather be water instead.

Music: Heart of Glass ; Nouvelle Vague

"we could've made it crusin', yeah"
They say A swallow doesn't make a spring. Well maybe then this spring could bring the swallows.

If you see her, say Hello

Hot Piece of the Day:Hot bitch Elizabeth Perkins as Celia Hodes on Showtime's Weeds. I love that woman.

This weekend marks the last one i will be slaving over a stupid essay- all the rest from now til doomsday will be for slaving over my exam preparation -.- Oh, and since i can't comment on Stardust, having NOT WATCHED IT YET, Bee Movie is a sad but adequate substitute. Renee Zell-whatever should use her pretty whispery voice more and hide her blotchy face. She looks like a melting cake.

15 Steps to Post-Modernist Literature:

1) Fragmented structure
2) Episodic chronology (or lack thereof)
3) Multiplicity of self
4) Upheaval of a patriarchal society that is oppressive, along with its ideals
5) Social criticisms
6) Search for meaning abolished
7) Lack of meaning established
8) Death treated lightly to highlight meaninglessness of life

9) Intertextuality heavily employed

10) Meta-fictional elements

11) Constant undermining/irony of epiphanies, meaning, languge, and culture

12) Strong motifs that are ambiguous

13) Lack of meaning = changeability of every single thing = instability of language

14) Elusive ending (or lack thereof)

15) Sweeping philosophy that must be unique.

AAAANNNND you've got a post-modernist piece ready to go.

'Stay', you said we'd build a nest

So i left my life

Tried on your friends,

Tried on your opinions.

So when the bridges froze and you did not come home,

I put our snowflake under a microscope.

Guess my heart's been hard to find

Baker baker, can you explain, if truly his heart
was made of icing, now
and i wonder how mine could taste.

Burning down the house

Music: Tori Amos
"I just want a little passion to hold me in the dark"


Ever wonder why we sabotage things? The term, don't fix what ain't broken. Sometimes it doesn't apply. Sometimes just being static and fixed is not enough. People claw against injustice, bias, and rage. Yet, we don't fight back enough against the unspoken sins, the unknown, uncertain ones that keep us wondering. Someone called me a "sinker", one who purposely keeps her head underwater longer than she has to, drowning more than she has to. I think that's alarmingly accurate. I lie in bed longer than i should, I think about things that aren't necessarily there, and i push and push and still get no where. And then i dip my head in a little more.


I don't know if i'm becoming even more of a pessisimist than before, but everything's spinning out of control and if i couldn't stand it before, now it's only serving me more panic and desperation. It's not like i keep myself in misery on purpose- like i said, i keep trying to float, and you keep kicking my head back in.

Juli, if you're reading this. Your pillbox analogy is cruel. You assume status quo (and as Bryan says, assumptions are the mother of all fuckups). It assumes things remain static whenever you turn away and turn back. They never do. The world goes on and people go on. See, when you pick your pills and neglect the rest, they might just get tired and expire.



Hot Piece of the Day:

NUS's webcast system. Two days, 10 lectures to finish watching. 2 hours each.

my heart is like the ocean,
it gets in the way.
so close to touching freedom,
then i hear the guards call my name.

And my priest says, you ain't savin' no souls.

[ Tori Amos - Take to the Sky ]

The trick is to keep breathing

Boredom-Crushing Hot Link of the Day: Jeff Dunhan's Achmed the Dead Terrorist - viewed 6 million times and counting.

This stuff is hilarious. No joke. Dunhan is apparently the best ventriloquist in the world, and he does wicked stand up. Best part? 'I say.. "Ello, I'm Lindsay Lohan!" ' - special thanks to Yuhao.

Anyway, today marks day #239483742834 of Operation Mountain Tortoise and i must say, staying at home is at first calming, then addictive, then so frustratingly banal you'd do anything for a bit of release, even run through the streets naked shouting 'Eureka!'. Okay maybe not. At least i've, in a miraculous burst of inspiration, dashed off my 6-page Film essay in 1.5 hours, rendering the rest of my day a blissful/triumphant stupor. Not productive at all. Need.. to.. survive.. this.. week..

Hot Piece of the Day:

I can't decide if the hot piece is Jeff Dunhan (who reminds me of a more humorous version of Parkman from Heroes, but is a little hotter), or Achmed. I think for the 'i kill you', the doll wins.

So maybe im still a fool

Music: Love Foolosophy (Mondo Grosso Love Acoustic Mix) ; Jamiroquai
"i dont want the world i want you"

It's a great remix. Watch it here for musical enlightenment.

Quiet Saturday night. I mean, i've cooped myself indoors all week in a desperate attempt to gain artistic insight, or at least to finish all my damn work. Well, so far i've gotten as far as 3/4 of a Romanticism essay, 3/4 of Wuthering Heights, 0 to 6/7s of a creative writing short story (depending on quality of writing), and finally managed to get out to Video EZY to rent Psycho and Citizen Kane for film essay that still has yet to exist.

We're having dinner guests over tonight which = oxtail stew, shepherd's pie, spinach pizza, garlic bread, fruit salad, avacado salad, wine til you drop, and cheese/grapes/crackers. I love having dinner guests. Michelle and i gossiped about the sad state of NUS folk (not you guys my dear friends) and tried to convey to the parents the fact that golf is NOT the panacea to all health trouble/ social awkwardness/ stress-filled existences.

Today i spilled hot green tea all over my 'countdown calendar' for the holidays- VERY bad omen, according to myself. Diluted days of existence, scalding experiences, and fading of the ink of spirit. Hard times indeed

Hot Piece of the Day:

Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates in Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho (1960).

Memorable Quotes:
'You eat like a bird.'
'A son is a poor substitute for a lover.'
'i think i have one of those faces you can't help but believing.'
'They're probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind of a person I am. I'm not even going to swat that fly. I hope they are watching... they'll see. They'll see and they'll know, and they'll say, "Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly...”'
'shut up! shut up!'


Haha, gotta love him.

Taste your love along the way

Music: Ten Years Gone; Led Zeppelin

"did you ever really need somebody and really need them bad?"

I don't know when i turned into a swooning, sentimental, bi-polar fool. People say the key to accepting change is adaptation. But what if we can't draw distinctions between adapting to something, and getting so used to it that it becomes important enough to it consume you and take over your life? By that i mean so far under your skin that you can barely remember what things were like before.

As far as intense emotions and sensations go, I cope with rage well enough. Really bad bouts of gastric-flu type fatigue nausea will tame me and i'll go quietly to bed. Happiness can be contained by detaching myself. So for the life of me, i don't know why i can't detach myself from the emotions that do bother me. Disappointment. Hurt. Jealousy. Seemingly gentler on the intensity scale, but it's the private hells that can kill the fastest.

I'm passing days in a robotic daze- and maybe that's the only way to survive. I do my work, eat food without manically pursuing the 'dietry nutrition' page (maybe that's one bonus), go to school, lie in bed and stare around listlessly, and time still passes by either blinkingly fast, or in laguid, torturous stretches. When im not simply passing time, im paranoid; I analyse everything, i wonder why time spent playing xbox can't be time spent with me. I swing incessantly from doubting my own beliefs, to a violent stubborness to cling onto them. I come up with worst-case senarios so i can cope with the future. I'm afraid of imagining a better time, although those thoughts are the only ones that get me through. I'm sick of asking, is this permanent? is this a sign? is this going to happen even after 3 weeks? does he just not know? am i being unreasonable? And all i can do is rail in vain, and quietly acquiesce. What else can i do. I mean, i don't want to see my worst-case senarios played out but nothing is convincing me otherwise.

Hot Piece of the Day:

Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. I chose an unremarkable kind of cover for the picture because, well, today is a day of suppression. I need to survive.

'May you not rest, as long as i am living. You said i killed you- haunt me, then' -Heathcliff

Easy like sunday morning

Music: KT Tunstall; Heal over
"Everybody sails alone but we can travel side by side"

Anyway the title of today's entry is somewhat ironic because i'm going to talk about my pet peeves. Yes, list updated as of today, the 1st of November 2007.

1) Neon-coloured highlighters. I realise all highlighters have to be "neon" but i especially shrink away from the orange and yellow ones like we flee from the glare of the sun. Which brings me to,
2) the Sun.
3) People who say "have a sit" and "seat down". If they can pronounce both words, WHY ARE THEY CHANGING THEM . are they confused? are they stupid?
4) running out of hot water in the middle of a shower/ streaming videos that stop halfway. I decided to put them under the same number because they share a general kind of 'misplaced hope' and 'first they give then they take away' philosophy.
5) The phrase "jolly well".
6) People who ask me, 'What can you do next time as a lit major?'. Well it's really none of their beeswax is it? why so elitist? why so narrow-minded? Well, i can tell the difference between modernism and post-modernism. i can read a 600 page novel in a night and actually know what classical form is. Can they? I think not, my friend.
7) Those diabolical frozen peas/carrots/corn vegetable combination. What do they do but add needless colour like highlighters do? They certainly don't bring any kind of viable flavour that doesn't offend your palate and make you want to hurl. And there's something really offensive in really. small. foods.
8) Typos.
9) Clothes in a store that have no price tags on them.
10) Tickling.
11) Computer trouble. Although i've been resigned to my fate, being of a computer-illiterate ilk that machines have some kind of thing against.

That's about it, folks. If you ask me, i've mellowed somewhat. Speaking of number 11, my Hot Piece of the Day was going to be Mr. Rochester but i can't seem to upload photos. BAH.

Singing hallelujah with a fear in your heart

Music: My Heart is an Apple ; The Arcade Fire
"Alice died in the night"

Hot piece of the day:

David Duchovny, aka Hank Moody on the set of Californication, my favourite TV series since the last 10 weeks. If you ignore all the porn scenes, it's really a very tragic show about a middle aged guy trying to get his life (his ex-girlfriend, daughter, and his career) back on track, but he's proud and stubborn and hard-headed, yet so vulnerable at the same time. oh it's great. Best script in a while.

I've been victim of really bad writer's block, I've been reduced to prying off random keys from my laptop keyboard to 'check' if there's any dirt/debris/food trapped under them, and then pushing them back in. I've been having trouble sleeping, waking up many times at night result of bad dreams, and then having grumpy days in school, where i can be in class or walking to class and suddenly have these overwhelming bouts of unhappiness. I can't wait for the next 3 weeks to be over. I've been feeling over-anxious and down lately and i haven't the slightest clue why everything's affecting me so badly. Argh. Least i could have would be some support.

I'll admit, I'm full of shit.
that's how i know i love you,
that's how i know i trust you.
You're not sure, if there's a right or wrong,
but it feels like there is,
when i treat you like this.
I go outside..

Texas, i won't come home.
not even if you call,
can't hear you at all.
I can't explain why it's a sin,
state i'm living in,
i just feel so tired.

My mouth is full, your heart is an apple.
Your mouth is full, my heart is an apple.

We watched the pole dance of the stars

Music + Hot Piece of the day : Interpol

"she found a lonely sound, she keeps on waiting for time out there"
Antics- arguably still my favourite Interpol album, even though i agree that Turn on the Bright Lights may be more genius. Remember to check out Our Love to Admire, especially 'No I in Threesome', 'The Scale', and 'Heinrich Maneuver'.

I'm staring at the grand total of 200 words i've written for my Romanticism essay (only 2,800 more words to go) and panicking harder by the second. I've learnt my lesson though, next time i have to choose a topic and commit to it beforehand (because we have to hand in essay outlines), i shall use a more sound method to choose, as opposed to pointing to a random number on the page and shrugging off bad choice as the call of fate. Die suffer die.

Yeah but nobody searches
Nobody cares somehow
When the loving that you've wasted
Comes raining from a hapless cloud
And I might stop and look upon your face
Disappear in the sweet, sweet gaze
See the living that surrounds me
Dissipate in a violet place
Can't you see what you've done to my heart
And soul?
This is a wasteland now

We spies
We slow hands
Put the weights around yourself
We spies
Oh yeah we slow hands
You put the weights all around yourself now

Late night tales (Nightmares on wax)

Hot Piece of the Day:

"Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you"
The Dusty Rose- a rose (obviously.) grown by avid Dusty Springfield (jazz musician with arguably the most sexy voice in the history of jazz music- her cover of The Look of Love will make the world make love ) fan, John Harding, in her honour. Her voice is sex on notes. I've been in love with her song Spooky, which i heard on Lush over the weekend- instant chillout. Jazz always brings back memories of singing Orange Coloured Sky at home when i was a little girl in a pink dress, Unforgettable on karaoke with my dad, Sade, daydreaming about a smokey blues lounge with Ella/Billie/Anita etc etc. Ah jazz.

Watch it here (you won't regret it i promise!)

That night i had a horrible nightmare. I remember this now because sometime in the course of the night, i must've woken up in a sweat and scribbled these words down on my Political Science notes (hence the tardy discovery- Pol. Sc. makes me quake in my imaginary boots and therefore receive very little notice under my radar.), 'dream about language'. I don't know if it's the indoctrination of post-structuralism via my 20th century module, or pure coincidence, or some Freudian manifestation, but i dreamt that i couldn't write any more- i distinctly remember showing Steph and Ashton (or my dream Steph and Ashton) an 'essay' that i did that was covered with incoherent babblings that were supposed to be something else. I just couldn't write a thing- nothing i wrote came out as it was supposed to. Scary.

On the subject of dreams, i dreamt that Nick and i wanted to reach the sky because it was above our heads (and yes you can make loads out of this analogy. this time i swear i have lit to blame- John Keats you will be the death of me). so we set out (it was a dream la okay i can't remember how we actually went about 'setting out'. not that we packed our bags and gunned our laser boots or anything) to reach the clouds, etc etc. Long story short, when our feet were firmly planted against the sky (which means our heads were pointing at the earth), we looked 'up' and realised that everything that used to be below was now above our heads, ie, the new sky/ destination/ 'Holy Grail'/ goal/ unattainable.

Okay you know what? I didn't explain it properly- it was deeper than i just made it out to be.

BTW, i skipped school again today. Ever had one of those mornings where you open your eyes and feel overwhelmed by the thought of the day? Well i copped out big time today. I'm sorry- I'm tired and angry and tired of being angry and angry at being tired.

Consolation prizes

Music: Why I Can't Stand One Night Stands ; Catatonia

"And Saturday's fuss is just small-town lust"

We don't need the sunshine/

Hello people. After another weekend i looked at my calendar and panicked, because

1) i have 2 weekends to get my shit together and compose 4 essays (approx 6-15 pages EACH),

2) 3 presentations (including one soci show and tell that i'm totally clueless about. Im thinking of bring Jack to demonstrate modern day conjuring magic?)

3) wk 12 is going to be a disaster
4) my exams are actually about a month away
5) and i haven't even bought all my books/ read them.

Well then, welcome to the Panic City, have a seat, grab a laptop and please furiously start writing essay of your major/minor/why-the-fug-did-i-even-choose-this-module-was-i-unconscious?-probably/"choice". The good news is that we're going to be out of this school fog in a bit- 1 month (plus some) more and i'm not touching a book until January comes.

Hot Piece of the Day:

Smashing Pumpkins' very rare CD single, Disarm 2.
Containing song of the moment for me, a cover of Thin Lizzy's Dancing in the Moonlight. Gorgeous.


When i passed you in the doorway,
you took me with a glance.
Should've taken that last bus home,
But i asked you for a dance.
Now we go steady to the pictures,
i always get chocolate stains on my pants.
My father says, 'he's going crazy'
He says im livin' in a trance.

Dancing in the moonight,
Its caught me in its spotlight.
It's alright, it's alright, the moonlight-
On this long hot summer night.

Theatre in time

Hot Piece of the Day:
"so the madman has struck!"

Still shot from Tom Stoppard's play: The Real Inspector Hound (1968). One of the most fabulous reads of late for me (thank you 20th century Brit Lit), Stoppard (genius screen-writer as well) writes a murder-mystery-thriller parlour whodunnit that parodies similiar plays of the genre like Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap, thought processes that go into the making of such plays, and even the pompous theatre critics, exposing the farce and at times, ridiculousness that go into theatre. Hilarious and interesting- coming from a person who has only read and loved Shakespeare, The Crucible, and Wilde in her life. So go pick it up! It's short and terribly interesting, I swear. One will go through slight amusement, laughter, confusion, very confused surprised, more confusion, and an ending worthy of a second read.

Quick excerpt (for those who care):

Birdboot: where's Higgs?
Moon: I'm standing in.
Moon and Birdboot: Where's Higgs?
Moon: Every time.
Birdboot: What?
Moon: It is as if we only existed one at a time, combining to achieve continuity. I keep space warm for Higgs. My presence defines his absence, his absence confirms my presence, his presence precludes mine... When Higgs and i walk down this aisle together to claim our common seat, the oceans will fall into the sky and the trees with hang with fishes.
Birdboot: [He has not been paying attention, looking around vaguely, now catches up] Where's Higgs?

So reads my weekends nowadays. Catch up on my texts for the week's lecture (a whopping average of 3 books per weekend! sigh) + be dutifully impressed/mention text on blog, have quick prata suppers, plan chill movie marathons, and look forward to December. At least NUS has taught me the beauty, skill and Godsend of speedreading. Makes everything so much easier, really.

Extraordinary machine

Music: O' Sailor; Fiona Apple
"just because i play so far from my vest"


Good morning. I skipped school today for the 3rd time this week, and i must say- it's really addictive. Really changes your perspective, because once you skip you really can't stop. Anyway yesterday Steph and i (matching outfits not intended i swear) went for our usual- 2 hour Japanese dinners, shopping, magazine buying, etc etc. Except i made her search the whole of town for some godforsaken out-of-print book that i was craving, to no avail. All we got was slight embarrassment from the "no no your turn to go ask!". Never mind.

20th Century lecture yesterday was nothing but .. really really depressing. Anyone who wants a lesson on how human suffering has no reason, but for the fact that there just is, a philosophical play on existentialism, minimalism and all other 'isms', pick up Samuel Beckett's absurdist play Endgame. Yes, same guy who gave the world Waiting for Godot, basically about people waiting for God and wasting time and God never comes anyway (in a VERY SMALL NUTSHELL).

A small excerpt from Engame:

Clov: Why this farce, day after day?
Hamm: Routine. One never knows [Pause] Last night i saw inside my breast. There was a big sore.
Clov: Pah! You saw your heart.
Hamm: No, it was living. [Pause. Anguished] Clov!
Clov: Yes.
Hamm: What's happening?
Clov: Something is taking its course. [Pause]
Hamm: Clov!
Clov: [Impatiently] What is it?
Hamm: We're not beginning to... to... mean something?
Clov: Mean something! You and I, mean something! [Brief laugh] Ah that's a good one!

-

Nell: What is it my pet? [Pause] Time for love?
Nagg: Were you asleep?
Nell: Oh no!
Nagg: Kiss me.
Nell: We can't.
Nagg: Try. [Their heads strain towards each other, fail to meet, fall apart again.]
Nell: Why this farce, day after day? [Pause]
Nagg: I've lost me tooth.
Nell: When?
Nagg: I had it yesterday.
Nell: [Elergaic] Ah yesterday! [They turn painfully towards each other.]
Nagg: Can you see me?
Nell: Hardly. And you?
Nagg: What?
Nell: Can you see me?
Nagg: Hardly.

-

Hot piece of the day:


Soft-shell crab handroll. Yummy.

oh you silly stupid pastime of mine,
you were always good for a rhyme.
and from the first to the last time,
the signs said stop.
but we went on wholehearted,
it ended bad but we loved what we started.

[ Fiona Apple - Parting Gift ]

Our endless numbered days

Text: Lady Chatterley's Lover ; DH. Lawrence

"How she hated words, always coming between her and life: they did the ravishing, if anything did: ready-made words and phrases, sucking all the life-sap out of living things."



Yes okay fine, i've been reading Lady Chatterley's Lover. Yet, amid all the erotica there seems to be a search, if not frail existence, of tenderness that kind of moves me. Why can't Heathcliffs and hot stable boys (yeah, stable boy, gamekeeper, lady, princess- same difference) exist in real life? Dr. Ang said something about the paradox of modern age: people of the renaissance actually sought to create ruins in their own backyard because while they loved the convenience of modernisation, there was always this nagging feeling that the contemporary age held nothing but a colourless kind of reason. Basically, the search for history is a search for character and a kind of romance, mainly because (I feel) the past is so unattainable (whereas the future and present is what is to come and what is already here) that we try to recapture that loss, and that entails more loss.

Hot piece of the day:

Walpole's Strawberry Hill library, a gothic mansion in the 18th century done in the style of 12th and 15th century gothicism.

For all students out there, I'm sure you can relate to me when i talk about the inferior essay syndrome. It happens when you're halfway through an essay/ staring at two words and a blinking cursor/ writing a hasty conclusion, and you realise the essay itself, along with your uncertain superfluous inadequate and utterly off-the-mark moronic words, are all mocking you and going, ah. you are so out of your league!

I hate political science.

Quote of the day-

Nick: what's that book? Ladybird Chatterbox?

Ping: oh so that's not the part yet? i thought the chickens were 'chickens'.

Lost highway

Music: Jeff Buckley
"I'm not sure but sometimes we're so blind"

Hot piece of the day:

The original Chanel Vintage 2.55 in washed lambskin, mustard. Seriously, just drool and die. This is one of those bags you love and hate- you love it for the structure, the material, the versatility, its sheer beauty and classic-ness, and you proclaim it is the 'bag to end all bags' and that you will love it forever no matter what. YET, the fact that it comes in so many materials (satin, patent, distressed, quilted leather, denim) and colours (mustard, pink, black, white, beige, navy) makes you just want to scream in frustration, hit every Chanel from here to the end of the world, and grab all the 2.55s you can see, risking life and limb.

My dad recently promised me this bag (and watch of my choice, even though i don't wear watches. who wouldn't wear a Frank Muller) if i make it to honour's year in NUS. As sweet as he was being, i doubt the promise of a bag- even if it is of orgasmic proportions-, will magically transport and propell me toward genius inclination.

Anyway. Today woke up at 12.30pm and realised that i had already missed Soci tutorial and half of film tutorial, so i turned up my air-con, brought some chocolate to bed, and came online. No point going for Romanticism tutorial, film lecture and film screening now right? Actually, there is a point, but i missed it somewhere along the way.

wise men say,
it looks like rain today.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=7Yhs6-nNDLE

Picaresque

Music: The Decemberists

"here's a hand to lay on your open palm today"

AAAAANNNNDDD.. it's Sunday. Already? The school weeks zoom past so quickly it's not even funny- come tomorrow it'll be, what, Week 9, ie, the start of Deadline City. Last night tried to read Vathek in the midst of all the madness, and that was, needless to say, a failed enterprise. I ended up eating half a tray of those jello-creamcheese-biscuit squares and then going out for coffee.

aboxoflove:

There are angels in your angles,

there's a low moon caught in your tangles.

There's a ticking at the still,

there's a purr of a pigeon to break the still of day.

As we go on drowning,

down we go

Away.

And darling, we go a-drowning,

down we go away,

Away..

[ The Decemberists - Of Angels and Angles ]

hands away

Music: Not Even Jail; Interpol

"If things come alive"

Good morning Singapore. I've moved my blog because diaryland was, well, not user-friendly enough for my computer-moron skills (or lack thereof). Sorry if i sound distracted- i'm currently marvelling at how easy it was for me to post pictures without having to use a hosting website. Anyway the new pre-class hangout is now Portsdown's Colbar, a perfect place to have Monday-blues brunch, a seriously coconutty curry lunch, sentimental iced horlicks, or to tuck into a hearty breakfast.

okaaaaaay. still trying to get used to blogspot now, but i think we can safely pronounce my picture posting so far quite successful. Anyway, it seems that time wants to creep up on us students stealthily, yet present itself as a desperate stretch for the lovers. I find myself approaching week 9 of school (unfathomable!), with the finals (along with plenty of final paper deadlines) a mere 5 weeks (or so) away. disgusting. judging by the sad state of affairs, the future looks bleak:

1) EN3227: English Romanticism- incomplete midterm essays(40%). pending presentation(20%) on Wuthering Heights (not yet read). currently launching into Gothic Lit (texts also unread). pending deadline(week 12) for the final paper (40%). status: not yet in existence.

2) EN3224: 20th Century British Lit- disgraceful midterm essays (15%). pending deadline (9nov) for final paper (25%), status: not yet read topics. currently launching into Samuel Beckett (plays unread). final exam (50%)- here's to crossing fingers and hoping it's open book.

3) EN2241: Film Studies- one half-baked Casablanca midterm paper (10%, thankfully). pending deadline(5nov) on final paper (20%). pending presentation on Breakfast at Tiffany's. status: not yet watched film. final exam (50%)- here's to crossing fingers and hoping it's just a simple essay response paper on cinematography.

4) PS1101: Political Science- (i actually had to think about what other modules i was doing). pending deadline (19oct) for midterm paper (30%- holy mother of god). status: not yet read question. one practically silent presentation on nationalism (20%). final exam (50%)- here's to crossing fingers and hoping school burns down.

5) SCsomething: Soci of Popular Culture- one pending deadline (29oct) for midterm paper/ midterm MCQ (wk12)(30%). one pending show-and-tell(wk11).

Now that i have said all those things, i feel an undeniable sense of panic. maybe i should do some reading this weekend. like, Vathek, Frankenstein, Beckett and (whatismyothermodule) my pol. science readings. oh and i should buy the soci reading package. yes.

In the meantime, happy birthday grandma-

we went to pan-pacific's haitien lo for a cantonese dinner.

Quotes of the day:

stacey: what are those green vegetables?

me: they are not vegetables, they're leprechan fingers.

stacey: what the hell! no they're not

me: you just have no sense of imagination.

-

stacey: what is that!

me: fried gluten in vegetables

gwen: yucks.

maril: (with look of rapture) IT'S VERY NICE!

-

maril: (one dish later) ohwow the superior soy sauce is superior indeed!

-

grandma: your dress looks very casual.

me: oh should i change?

grandma: no la! for girls, the face is the most important. dress is secondary. the face must look pretty! go and glue some eyelashes on

-

me: (at start of dinner) OMG IM SO EXCITED! we changed the menu to get ee-foo noodles yes!

me: (middle of dinner) omg i can't wait for the ee-foo noodles yes!

me: (before the last dish) im going to the toilet- if the noodles come then just call me and i'll rush back

me: (at the arrival of the noodles) omg here goes....

uncle simon: eh why don't you kids just take all the noodles.. we're too full.

us: ... the noodles suck.

Hot Piece of the Day:

Grandma's old film camera. which died in the middle of dinner.