24 November 2006 7:31 p.m. ItchyMicchi's steps to bliss head to the chinese book fair at the Mines' shopping complex. i wonder if it's possible to pull the same thing in japan and come back with my own real, live bishonen? for aesthetic purposes, of course. so they even have book sales there? Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle = my first CLAMP comic. yes, yes, okay, stop asking me what took me so long.
hisashiburi-ne~ or, hello, boys, it's been a long time
ignore everyone staring at your distinctly un-chinese face and healthy, shiny skin (thanks, Nivea!).
suppress a scream of delight when you spot signs that say "licensed taiwanese manga translations", as opposed to unlicensed translations you usually find in bookstores.
grab a set of Saiyuki Reload (who cares if it's out of date). rejoice in anticipation of gorgeous artwork (in colour!) to be found between the covers.
entrance the sales assistant with the fact that you're not dressed in electric pink/blue/green/yellow and that you actually read the comics, so much so that he forgets to give you the purchase slip he writes out and you have to remind him about it.
laugh gently when the cashier discovers the said sales assistant was also supposed to give you a carbon copy of the purchase slip, but didn't. meeting a true-blue Other isn't something that happens to every person, so it's okay.
buy a dictionary from another stall, just in case.
why fronts
WHY won't i learn that japanese voice actors are all cuddly looking, and totally unlike their anime characters?
WHY don't i realise that they'd be on tv if they did have the cheekbones they're voicing?
(even so, i'd like to hear Fay say, "play that one more time!")
WHY doesn't Kurogane ever smile?
WHY am i the one who has to write her own letters and scrabble for her own literature while my supervisor insists on writing introductory letters for Alice and gives Olivia random books from the World Health Organisation?
WHY... er, i'm not feeling very clever lately. i just really wanted to post this picture because Fai + Kurogane = Tsubasa canon, and don't let anyone tell you any different, not that you didn't know that.
22 November 2006 11:16 a.m.sounds like a plan
Alice: DID YOU HEAR ABOUT SALLY? she doesn't want to convert to a PhD anymore!
me, saying the silliest, most improbable thing i could think of: why? does she want to get married?
Alice: *stares*
me: um... i should stop getting things right like that, shouldn't i?
Sally's 3 step guide to eternal happiness
meet a guy through Yahoo! chat.
date said guy for eight months.
decide NOT to pursue PhD. instead, rush to finish master's by december 2006 because guy says his family wants him to get married by june 2007. because he says so.
wtf?
the happy couple has to buy their own house, with the documents signed in his name (!!!!), to which Sally must contribute monthly payments and cover their living expenses with her salary (from what job, pray tell?) because the dude needs his money to pay for his car, his house and the rest goes to his family.
it might be me, but it sounds quite hysterical. i mean, there isn't even an imminent baby bump to precipitate such anxiety. Enfant Terrible thinks i'm being uncharitable. should i gatecrash their wedding?
14 November 2006 10:11 p.m.always in my head
"what happened to your eye?" says an acquaintance.
"I'M ALLERGIC TO STUPID PEOPLE," i scream, then i run off.
scratched off another christmas card/wedding invitation list. slowly, slowly.
02 November 2006 7:29 p.m.i don't love you anymore
just as i'd decided that Robbie Williams made an excellent recovery from the appalling Rudebox with a nice, frothy, George Michael-esque second single, i find out that Lovelight is actually a COVER VERSION of a Lewis Taylor song.
/melodrama
30 October 2006 10:28 a.m.worse than porn
i tried, i really did. but i go back to it every single damn time. it's always supposed to be my last one, that's what i keep telling myself. maybe one day i'll believe it. i am supposed to be stronger than this, but i can't help it. the attraction is irresistable, the allure makes my life just a little more shimmery. just this once, i swear. i'll never do it ever again.
i hate you, Tyra Banks, you and your models.
maybe it's a girl thing (like fancying Djimon Hounsou).
please, help me block out the cacophony.
25 October 2006 11:46 a.m.hustler meets nerd
what do you call your aunt's father? i mean the aunt who married your paternal uncle, of course. we call her Darlene.
grandpa? or, "uncle", a near universal term?
my own grandparents were pretty remote figures. we didn't see them that often, i was too young to speak either bidayuh or cantonese (or exploit my cuteness), so... . we smiled and nodded at each other a lot. then they died (one after the other, okay), and i never got to know them.
anyway, about my pseudo-grandpa -
1. he named my aunt after an ex-girlfriend of his.
2. he supports Arsenal (Kim, SIT DOWN).
3. he's the type who walks softly but carries a big stick.
4. he uses it against neighbours who let their dogs shit on his lawn/front porch.
5. he played golf before it was cool to do so.
6. he, uncle Marlon (his son-in-law) and uncle Paddy (Marlon's brother) played a course together once, and the geezer left the younger duo trailing miserably as he power-walked the 18-hole course.
7. "why i play golf? how do you think we could afford to put our children through school ah?"
the few times i'd met him were of the "smile and nod" type of encounters, mainly because i am the world's worst conversationalist. also, they live in penang most of the time.
however, now that aunt Darlene and uncle Marlon have four children, all under the age of ten, i think they'll be in KL for a while. plus, uncle Marlon now has two black persian kittens as pets, so they need someone to make sure that the youngest child doesn't climb in to the cats' cage more than twice a day.
we visited aunt Darlene and uncle Marlon for the first day of Hari Raya yesterday (yes, they're muslim), and uncle-grandpa refilled my plate and bro18's at every chance he got, muttering something about us looking "so underfed".
me: sorry we're such a poor reflection on your kitchen, mum.
mum: not my fault.
it was the first time i'd eaten Terengganu laksa, which beats Penang laksa hands down (creamy, fish-based soup with loads of raw veg vs sour fishy soup with pineapples). to add to the allure, uncle-grandpa claimed that it was difficult to find stalls selling it in Terengganu itself, though it doesn't mean it's not available in homes. i know only two people from that state, and they both have their maids do the cooking, so i need to visit Darlene and Marlon more often.
21 October 2006 11:09 a.m.chronic: a fairytale gone wrong
i find myself saying "shi-nnn!" when i remove a micropipettor from its stand, and "ka-cha" when i open a door. not only that, when i watch a movie's credits rolling, i reach out to make the scroll bar reach the bottom of the screen at a faster rate. only, there is no scroll bar.
so i was trapped in the lab for the better part of an afternoon - running a PCR and then a gel takes about four hours, if you don't count the prep time. fortunately, i'd brought a book. unfortunately, it was "Once..." by James Herbert. i bought it because this man wrote masterpieces, in my opinion, like The Fog (not the one made into a movie), The Rats and Fluke. the back cover blurb read "... masterful new novel of erotic love and darkest horror... ."
"goody," i thought. "bring on the sexy face eaters!"
too bad it was face eating of a different, but no less horrifying sort. you know how writers have bad spells every now and then? like, when Warren Ellis talks about going blotto on the weekends and waking up in a pool of vomit three days later? and it mightn't even be his own vomit?
it seems that he'd decided to raid the archives of Anne Rice writing as Anne Rampling circa Sleeping Beauty. there's only so much you can read about how breasts bounce and how the main characters lovingly spoon each other before wanting to paint everything purple in a frenzy of misery. i mean, who even uses "spoon" to describe a romantic situation anymore?
more like a manual, less like a novel.
a review stated that the characters are mostly devoid of humour, but that doesn't mean that there is a complete lack of humour in the book itself (it may have been inadvertant, or i might have a really sad sense of humour). the following is a passage where Jennet the undine (german for "water nymph" or "water elemental", i think) explains the existence of the faeriefolkis (must be italicised to indicate their otherworldliness) to the hapless and skeptical Thom.
"(undines or fairies) 'assuming the identities of humans. there is no pretence involved. ... usually they are very discreet, but one in particular has already drawn too much attention to herself. she's quite famous? ... she's an Icelandic singer. you humans think her eccentric, but in truth, she acts the way she does because she's still confused. she has't adapted yet, though she will in time. meanwhile, most of you will find her singing very strange... eventually it will make sense to you.'"
JAMES, she was strange in 1991, not 2001!
anime/manga fan: hey, waitaminute, isn't "undine" english for "Sha Gojyo"? (hur hur hur)
anyway, go back to the splatter gore, please.
p.s. - don't ever use "her most sensitive part" anymore, it gave me conniptions.
lesson for the day - good lomence fic makes you slash everyone is sight; bad lomence fic makes you slash at everyone in sight.
thank you for your attending.
16 October 2006 8:37 a.m.overheard
two women are sitting in an MRT carriage, under a station notification screen, whilst hogging a third seat with their shopping bags. as the name of the next station scrolls across the screen, they are discussing their strategy for determining what station they are at.
woman A: see, there's a trick to it, right. you need to know where to sit.
woman B: ooh?
WA: yes, you mustn't sit at the front or the end of the carriage, you know. you should pick a seat somewhere in the middle, facing the window (er...). then when the train reaches the station, you can read the station sign and know where you are!
WB: OOH, BRILLIANT.
i was only trying to make my way to singapore's #1 budget hotel chain, where tourists from mainland china like to discuss their itinerary outside your door at 4 a.m.
***
people on a bus
a tired mother has to handle two big bags and a tired six year old girl on the bus from singapore to KL.
"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? I SAID YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY CHOCOLATE. YOU THREW THEM ALL UP ON THE WAY HERE, WHY SHOULD I GIVE YOU ANY MORE? DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO BEHAVE?"
(aside to the lady in the next seat)
"aiyo, i tell you ah, she puked on ALL her clothes, you can't imagine the smell!"
lady: awww, poor thing...
"CAN'T YOU SIT QUIETLY AND LEAVE ME ALONE? HERE, TAKE THE CHOCOLATE AND SHUT UP."
11 October 2006 7:00 p.m.wimps
Nicole, Pam and i went to visit Simone and her brand new baby boy (as yet unnamed) at the pediatric ward today. the thing had gotten a fever and the doctors had decided to keep him for observation. this entailed monitoring his intake (breast milk) and "output", where Simone had to weigh his diaper before discarding it.
actually, i was more curious about what lactating breasts of mammary flesh looked like. sorry.
he is a very small baby. TINY. no wonder people are always forgetting where they left them. but as mum says, they're made to fit in the crook of your arm.
Simone took advantage of the situation by slipping off to have her first shower in ages, leaving us three to watch the sleeping baby. it all went well until he started squirming and whimpering, trying to escape from his swaddling sheet (i don't blame him, those things only make babies easier for people to handle them, and who's going to argue with a new mother who's only had 4 hours' sleep in as many days?).
"maybe he poo-ed," i suggested. Nicole, who was cuddling him, felt his diaper (OMG, eww).
"ya, i think it's full," she said. then, she put him back down on the bed and we stared at the wriggling baby in silence. us, who worked in a stool lab for nearly to years. we, who had received specimens from the most gastrointestinally-disturbed individuals in KL. we were cringing, squeamish with horror at the thought of changing a diaper full of baby shit.
"i'll go get Simone," Pam said.
