Wednesday, February 28, 2007

A Subaltern's Love Song

by John Betjeman

Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

Her father's euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing's the light on your hair.

By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! full Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

---

Ahhh... Remember when love feels so giddy? This poem makes me smile, always. How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

think of a happy place, happy place, happy place

Looking back, I rather enjoyed the midterm break despite the fact that towards the end of it, I found myself rushing to finish studying for Ethics midterm.

I especially loved the Tuesday spent in the company of Syd. It started off as an idyllic late afternoon, we shopped our lethargy off and ate and drank at NY. And then I shopped shopped shopped some more (Syd's a very bad shopping partner because she induces you to spend more by commenting that the dress looks nice on you etc etc) and Syd shopped shopped shopped a little bit and then we settled down for some Starbucky goodness and then there was the movie.

Paris, je t'aime.

It's one of the most well-crafted films I've seen this year (not that I've seen much). Think it was made last year for the Cannes festival, thus it was a bit arty. But it's still chokeful of big names like Natalie Portman, Maggie Gyllenhal and Elijah Wood. I really like it. It's a collection of 18 short films about love, shot by renowned directors from all over the world. My personal shortie is the last one shown - the story of a woman who fell in love with the city of Paris. She narrated the story in such an honest and simple way that I found myself shedding a tear or two in remembrance of my exchange trip. That's how I felt too travelling to those foreign countries. At first out of place and lonely, and then adapting, and then not wanting to leave.

At first the disturbing lack of familiarity, and then realizing that precisely because the city was unfamiliar that it became beautiful in its own way.

I'm really grateful I have this blog to remind me of it. Truly the greatest adventure I've embarked in my otherwise mundane life. And I can't wait for more in the future... Different sorts of trips with different sorts of people. Friends, relatives, special ones... I want to go to Hong Kong with my grandfather. Back to UK and Europe with Jing, who's going on an exchange to Newcastle soon :( ... To Egypt for my honeymoon. And of course Paris again, and Florence because I never got the chance to see it. India and Africa and Switzerland and New York and Japan and Korea and Canada and Norway and the furthest furthest reaches of the world.

Ahhh... wanderlust.

My happy place is here
but it's also there
My happy place is with you
but it's also without you
My happy place is inside
wherever I find peace

Isn't life great? You can do anything you want, be anyone you want to be, and the whole world is waiting for you.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

this little girl needs some growin' up

Where am I headed?

The road to success seems a minotaur's maze.

Should I keep trying or should I settle for the easy way out?

Dissatisfaction versus disappointment, which could I live with?

This need to want more, is it greed or is it ambition?

So many questions left unanswered.

Monday, February 19, 2007

i think i am really bad at poker

Played the whole night with Andri and Daniel, yet while they won 50-odd dollars I could only rake in $10, practically breaking even.

...

What's wrong with me?? There must be a flaw in my playing method. I can't help obsessing about this, what with Vegas Night just around the corner. I really had better train more before playing with the 39 pros at the table (OK, well, 38. I know how Yang plays).

Maybe I'm too tight. Yet sometimes I play loose too, and sometimes loose play makes me end up with half the original chip stack. I've been playing too many cash games that I forgot the right strategy for tournament. It seems a million years ago that I played with the Thornbanks people. How? Somebody help! Any tips for playing tournament with 40 people?

On to other matters. I think I'm missing the genes that make you grow up. You know, those genes that tell you to concentrate on building your resume so that you can nail a high-paying job. Those same genes that tell you to go look for someone who potentially could be your life partner. Those genes that tell you to join Cognitare, or SMIF, or EyE, or to network with people in the business world. Those genes that warn you to be politically correct at all times.

Without these genes, how could I be successful in life?

I'm starting to worry. Is it too late to make something of myself now?

I've talked to dad about trading strategies and I'd go register for an account after this CNY holiday is past. He's agreed to finance me, so hopefully in the near future I'd be able to get enough small change out of stocks and warrants to buy the Gucci bag.

But I don't know if that alone is enough. I really, really want to be a trader. Yet I haven't heard a peep out of all the trading internship applications I've sent out.

Mon is a failure :(

...


Okay dokay will snap out of this bleeding-heart self-pitying mode now. SSSNNNAAAPPP!

Thursday, February 15, 2007

damn.

Just got back from a poker game at like 3.45 am. Won a little but that's not what made it interesting.

The way that guy looked at me, especially after that hand... Damn.

Kinda made me feel hot under the collar.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

i cannot be without you, matter of fact

Scarlett Johansson acting in a mini-movie that is Justin T's latest music vid.



---

Been listening to Foo Fighters' Walking After You again. So sad. Also Slow Dancing In A Burning Room. It's all Zee's fault for introducing me to all these emo songs! *pout*

Don't really know what to write, nothing much been happening. Ethics presentation was OK, next is Marketing case presentation on Thur which means my V-Day would be spent in a project room in school. Yay! At least I won't have to scrounge around for a date. Heh.

(Well somebody did offer to spend it with me, but on the condition that I pay for everything, seeing as 'it means so much to me'. Wow, thanks for the EXTREMELY GENEROUS offer... Would rather save up for the following Gucci bag!)


Princy tote in white leather. I could only find the medium tote pic but Gucci in Taka carries the large version, which I prefer...

Oh, must must must try to find another bottle of Escada Island Kiss. It's the only fragrance I'd like to stick to for years until I'm all old and grotty.

Finally watched Step Up, the showcase at the end was really nice:

Friday, February 09, 2007

sing to me the song of the stars

Watching Mandy Moore dying, dying, dying and then dead makes me feel like crying. I used to not like her so much, but she did a pretty decent job in this movie, methinks.

...

Thanks Jing, you're a babe.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

the list, part 2 (edited!)

Wa-hey!

Syd's shopblog has come out with its second collection. I'm personally involved with this one, have to say the tops really flatter your figure! Check it out at brandybutter!

Speaking of whom...



Thou art lurrrrrved!

-----

Jing came up with her own The List in response to mine. Since she highlighted the bits of my list that she agreed with I'm gonna do the same thing with hers!

(note: i am not looking for my next boyfriend!!! this is just for fun.)

20 criterias to match Mon's list!
1. looks geeky sexy. like Superman. OMGGGGGG. uber turn on.
2. loves without reason
3. must not kick me off the bed when we are sleeping.
4. appreciates the simple things in life. cliche but many guys like stupid things. like pasting decals on their 5 year old cannot run sedan.
5. must understand that i like school.
6. must be a strong man, not a whimpy, tell-me-what-to-do sort.
7. cuddles me on a cold rainy day.
8. is adventurous, because i'd love for us to go backpacking in India, or go for a extravagant holiday in Sweden, or eat live squids in Korea, and still be happy together.
9. can withstand my gfs and parents teasing and laughs it off.
10. doesn't give the blank stare when my dad is talking to him.
11. must be a man of action not words.
12. eats whatever i cook him, even if its not very nice.
13. is confident and self assured.
14. be composed and suave even at the most crucial moments, like James Bond. 15. must not be a vainpot, just naturally handsome. if you're not handsome don't try too hard because it ALWAYS BACKFIRES.
16. treats people graciously.
17. does not let the cineleisure glass door slam back on me.
18. endeavours to treat me the best he can.
19. appreciates what i do for him.
20. has kindness that shows in his eyes.

I feel like cooking maggi right now, it's comfort food. Repeat this mantra: MSG is good for you MSG is good for you MSG is good for you especially if you find your hair too thick.

Gotta mugmugmug for marketing soon.

what a joke

I'm overwhelmed by today's series of incidents. They screw up my system, my emotions, my belief, my pride, everything.

First: woke up late. When I had set an alarm to ensure I woke up early, as well as making sure I had sufficient sleep. It is disturbing to know that despite all precautions the end result is much worse than expected. I hated myself for being late, had to rush through everything and thus I felt less prepared for the impending FT interview.

Second: screwed up FT interview. It seems to be a snowball effect. I did the worst possible job on it, even blanking out for seconds, staring into space, and asking, "err, can I restart?". Yet when I told my friends about this royal flush of a fuckup, their response is, "surely it's not that bad."

= DISBELIEF.

I feel like the boy who cried wolf.

Honestly, when I'm confiding in you a personal anguish with my face contorted in a hundred different directions, or over MSN my vowels and punctuations go beyond the required number (eg. aaaaaaaah nooooooo soobbbbbbb !!!!!!!!!!!!) it IS that bad. I'm not one to be theatrical and exaggerating about issues I regard seriously. But I guess to some people it's not that big a deal, screwing up an FT interview as opposed to a real work interview. Thing is, I now have this traumatic experience and I'd be asking myself constantly

"what if I fuck up a real work interview as well? Surely I'd be more nervous when a real job is at stake! If I can't do a decent one for a stupid half-mod course, how can I do well in a real one when the questions are surely to be tougher??"

Well, I suppose I'd have to practice 1,001 times in front of the mirror to get my body language right, to stop myself from tittering, and MOST IMPORTANTLY no blanking out and "err, restart" comments!

Lesson learned the hard way, and I accept the fact that it is solely my fault though with a heavy heart. I deserve an ugly grade.

Hokay dokay. Moving on...

Third: Late in submission of Ethics project part. Was reading through the ethical theories and halfway I fell asleep. Isn't there an illness associated with sleeping patterns? Like how you can sleep anytime, anywhere because of low blood pressure or something? Damn. I'm starting to feel like I'm suffering from that. No matter how much sleep I have I seem to require more and that's interfering with work!

Fourth: Not enough time in the day to manage to read Marketing chapters. And my quiz is on Thursday, so technically I have 2 days left. Half a day will be burnt in school because of classes, meetings, and dance. Another half a day would be devoted to resume / cover-letter writing & going out to print them in nice paper. So 1 day left. F*** F*** F*** F*** F***!

I wish everything isn't happening all at once!

Fifth: Something that's not happening to me personally, but I've witnessed a friend got burnt really bad by a guy. And it angers me, saddens me, frustrates me that she is feeling so hurt because of an insensitive bugger. Why is it that men can trample all over women's feelings any day and feel nothing for it? If they feel guilt, it would be related to themselves ('I don't want her to hate me'), or marginal.

OK, by stating 'men', I'm making a categorical accusation, hence I shall modify it to 'male players'. You are a player if you play with a person's feelings to satisfy a short-term need of something.

I'm angry that these men don't seem to think before they act. They are callous and careless. They leave a bad impression and they think they can get away with anything. Even if they say sorry,

How will that stop the hurt?

Girls can't help putting them on pedestals. Only time would heal the wounds, I really can't think of any other cure. So while someone is walking around with a great burden, someone else is happily courting another girl.

How to stop the hurt

when you're reminded of it constantly, by sight and hearsay?

I'm giving these male players some credit here, I'm assuming they are not complete dumbasses to not be aware of the consequences of their actions.

If you are aware, why do you still do it?

Do you regard the girls you play with as a disposable commodity?

How do you justify your actions?

How do you sleep at night?

When you're old and 40 and your back is bent and your stomach is a beer bong you would wish for the love of a good woman, only to realize that there is no good woman left for you.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

attempts to rock the bangs

...

Cannot la.

Maybe you have to be a Pussycat Doll to pull it off?



Relaxing day so far (when I try not to think about the shortness of ze bangs). Finally bought some Indomie mee goreng to satisfy my supper cravings. Can't wait to cook them yay yay yay! Am rather despondent though because a friend I'm supposed to hang with ditched me for a boy. It's not her fault and I totally understand, but still that left me feeling kinda blue. I want to hang and have a girly time yet I can't! The problem with my friends is that they are far too attractive to be boyless (despite some of them being single). One of these days they will peer-pressure me into finding someone, anyone, so that I could hang with them on double dates at least.

=(

Speaking of That Special Someone, I have decided that the next guy to charm me would be able to fill the following criteria:

1. Must like grocery-shopping, like my dad. I like grocery-shopping with my dad because we'll always end up with weird / funny stuff, mostly Things We Actually Do Not Need.
2. Must be charming, but not 'oily'.
3. Must be able to match my dad in terms of accomplishments!
4. Must understand a girl's need to shop, but cannot be too much of a shopaholic himself, because I'll hate it if he's a more expert shopper than me
5. Must be able to impress without trying too hard
6. Must be able to hold a conversation about anything and everything, and do not attempt too hard to sound 'intellectual'
7. Must be intelligent and well-spoken, not patronizing
8. Must be able to cook, because I'd love for us to cook up a meal together!
9. Must be knowledgeable and can teach me new stuff
10. Must drive a car, because I wouldn't want to be the one driving him around all of the time (and I'm still a cock driver)
11. Must be able to eat spicy food and like oriental stuff like Thai, Jap, and Indo (v important!)
12. Must not leave all the decision-making to me, girls like boys to take charge sometimes!
13. Must be able to play poker well, and beat me in a good hand (not out of luck)
14. Must be taller, girls like to wear heels
15. Must be a good kisser
16. Must have decent taste in clothes and be able to look good in striped polo tee's (my fav!) rather than look like an ah pek
17. Must smell fresh and not overload on aftershave / cologne
18. Must have a similar sense of humor
19. Must be nice and able to click with my girlfriends
20. Must be silently confident, not cocky

Eh... Chances are I'll never meet someone like that who's still single! Oh well, a girl can dream can't she? I shall not settle for less! I will be a spinster all my life if need be! Maybe that's why nuns become nuns? They can't find any other man worth devoting their lives for and refuse to settle? Heh.

Friday, February 02, 2007

do not go gentle into that good night

Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Funeral Blues

W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

(I found the lines in italics especially sad)


Poor Giraffe

As forwarded by Yang.