Monthly Archive
Browsing entries posted on January 2006
“God” is back at Anfield
Saw on the newspaper yesterday, while in the car on the way to visit relatives, the headline “Fowler back at Anfield”. So taken aback was I by this news that I immediately sms-ed the boyfriend to ask if it was true.
Robbie Fowler was the best striker Liverpool had in the current era, bar none. Cisse is good at solo runs. Luis Garcia has good vision. But Fowler was THE ONE. I never thought he’d return to his old club. Footballers making a 2nd coming are common enough - Paul Ince did that for Man U, if I recall correctly, and more recently there was that whole business with Michael Owen and 16 million pounds. But the Fowler deal came totally out of the blue for me - there had been no indication in the papers that they were even in talks.
Apparently there was no need for talks, Fowler was desperate to return. Awww. That warms the cockles of my heart. He was my favourite player while he wore a red shirt. After he left, I had no more idols to cheer for. Gerrard was cool, and everybody loves him. But while he gets respect from the Kop, Fowler gets real love. Of course we love Gerrard too, but not as much as we do Fowler. Gerrard isn’t the one being deified, eh?
Yeah, that “God” business was hilarious. It’s not blasphemy. It’s adulation of the greatest order from the greatest bunch of supporters. *ahem* Man, what I would give to see the Birmingham match live. There’s a pretty high chance Fowler will debut there, and I expect the noise to be deafening. That would be awesome. Not since the return of the prodigal son in the Bible, will anyone be welcomed as warmly and noisily as Robbie Fowler, back on home soil at Anfield.
It’s been a long journey, and the culmination of a very long love affair between “God” and his faithful worshippers.
The Trans-national experience
I seem to be turning into a bus reviewer. Today’s review is on… Transnasional! (Which, if you ain’t guessed it yet, is Malay for trans-national.)
This bus departs from the old terminal at Lavender Street. Can’t say I like that arrangement much, I find it more convenient to buy tickets from Golden Mile and personally, I like buses that leave from Bukit Timah because it’s nearer to Tuas.
This bus took 40 minutes to travel from Lavender Street to Tuas Immigration. I don’t like, since this means that the journey itself is longer. Add to that the long queues at immigration, and it was 10am when we finally finished all the clearance business. 1 whole hour and my journey has only just begun.
The in-journey movie was The Transporter 2, with Jason Stratham. I don’t know how many of you remember the scene where the blonde female assassin whips open her lab coat to reveal a pink bra, garters and a pair of automatics? Yeah. That one.
Gee, you’d think an assassin would wear a Kevlar vest or something, just in case she got shot at in return. I seriously doubt anyone returning fire would be aiming for her boobs. I guess since guns are her weapons, gun-related injuries are expected. Sort of like ‘live by the sword, die by the sword’. But I have a better saying for you: A dead assassin is a bad assassin. How about that, eh? But to be fair, I guess her targets - a schoolboy and his chaffeur - were quite unlikely to be packing heat. Although I wouldn’t be so sure about that nowadays. When it comes to little rich kids, there’s a very good chance the chaffeur is also an ex-Special Forces bodyguard.
So the story goes that the kid goes to the doctor, and his regular doctor is substituted by a vaguely deranged-looking individual. *bing* ta-da! Heuristics! A mental and visual shortcut used by the movie-maker to signal to you, the audience, that something’s not quite right about the “doctor”. Movies have to be kept short, see, and anything that keeps the pace tight is good.
Back to the bus. It’s a double decker with seats on the lower deck as well. I thought that it’d be only a 26-seater, but it turned out to have 36 seats. The upper deck had 30 seats. A bit crowded, really, because the seats were spaced too closely together. Even I, with my short legs, felt the lack of legroom.
The food was outsourced - they stopped at an Ayamas outlet and bought nuggets, curry puffs and meatballs. Brilliant. Better even than the other company, that picks up nasi lemak from some makcik along the route. As though to make up for the food, we got a can of Milo and a pack of tissues. Whee!
The bus ride was a bit long, there was some congestion along the way. Video games might have been a nice idea right about now. The sun was shining on me, and it was a bit warm because the air-conditioning wasn’t getting to me. Thank goodness there were no wailing kids to make the journey feel longer than it already was.
I worked out the maths, these Executive buses bring in $300 more per trip, compared to the cheaper but higer-capacity Economy buses. They have 4 daily trips. That’s an extra $1200 a day. Woot. Sure they have to pay more for the bus, and factor in the cost of food, but I think all that extra cash should cover it easily. No wonder everyone’s jumping on the “luxury bus” bandwagon.
Overall I think it was quite a good ride, but I don’t think I’ll take it again. Nothing personal. It’s just that its ticket counter is a bit out of the way for me, and the taxi ride to the terminal cost $11 which is a bit much. But for $35, I think it’s pretty good value for money. I don’t think there are other companies that can give you a double-decker bus with such good service, for only that amount. Aeroline and Nice2 cost $47 if I’m not wrong.
Ta for now, I’m off to my aunt’s for dinner! And tomorrow is the BIG deal!
A Fish Wrote ‘The Satanic Verses’!
From my Social Psychology lecture:
“Our lives teach us who we are.” Salmon Rushdie.
And all this time I thought they were only good for making sushi, sashimi, and smoked slices for my salad!
Facing the ennui that comes with an impending holiday, and still having to go for classes. Bah. Tonight would seem like a nice opportunity to immerse myself further in the ‘Lost’ series, but I have a stats lecture and tutorial tomorrow and must force my brain into difficult intellectual activities. Positive liberty sucks.
Today I went for my regular volunteer slot at an Activity Centre for the intellectually disabled, and we went for a loooong walk around the neighbourhood. Some of the clients of the centre (as they’re called) are a bit on the slow-moving side, because of their body posture and such. The whole bunch of clients sets out together, forming a long column on the pedestrian pathway, and because they walk in pairs, there tends not to be much space for other people to pass by.
The sight of other residents squeezing past us and then striding off to their urgent business is a usual one, if a bit disheartening. Of course they have to squeeze past us, but it’s almost as though they wish we wouldn’t be taking up space on the path. No one stares anymore, though, because these walks are a daily occurrence. Today we went past the kindergarten on the ground floor, and puzzled the teachers inside by hammering on the doors and windows as they went past. Their windows were closed, probably because they have air conditioning or something. At one point, a teacher opened the door to see what was making all the noise. Hehehehe.
Further on, we passed by a Chinese medicine shop, where the proprietor caused a bit of a traffic jam by holding out a basket of sweets and tiny mandarin oranges, so the clients could take them as they went past. I was later informed by one of the teachers at the centre that the proprietor had been doing this for some time, and not just because it’s Chinese New Year. I took a sweet on behalf of a client, but she gave it back to me. I ate it in lecture. 
It looks like the Chinese New Year hot weather has returned. Bah. So much for it being cooler and cloudier this year. It’s always so stuffy, going to visit relatives in a car that becomes an oven of glass and steel. Even with the air conditioning on full blast, those radiation-laden sun rays manage to find a way around our window shades and slowly roast us as we sit in the car. Oh gosh, on the bus back, I’ll be sitting on the east side, right at the mercy of the morning sun. Bah bah bah piffle.
The Resident Fellow just knocked on my door. Apparently it’s a routine check. Of what, I don’t know, since he barely stepped foot into my room. Well, there’s no boyfriend hiding under the bed, no illegal undeclared refrigerator, and even if I’d left my bottle of vodka on the shelf, he wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway. Maybe they were looking for illegal squatters, that would explain why I saw a girl moving her stuff out just now. Met them on the stairs, I did.
I wonder what the RF thought of my “Trespassers Butchered” sign. I know my mother finds it highly contradictory, since the violent message is transmitted by a sweet smiling bunny. In other news, the China girl living next door had her parents down for the festival, and the father was delightedly recording her room on his camcorder. My dad would probably just wander down the hall and read newspapers. Not that I’m complaining.
Happy Lunar New Year to everyone, anyway.
Catch that Mexican!
The boyfriend and I made a little foray to Holland Village today, because he needed to do some banking and the nearest branch was in Holland V. Now, Holland V isn’t called Holland V because there are a bunch of Dutch people living there or something. It’s just that it’s situated off Holland Road. And as to why Holland Road is called Holland Road, you’ll have to ask the historians. According to a Wikipedia search, it’s named after some architect. Well there you go.
Anyway, after we were done banking and window-shopping at a Factory Outlet Store (purveyors of killer Hollister and Abercrombie skirts), we wandered around looking for dinner. Holland Village is mostly about food. Japanese, Chinese, Italian, English, Mexican, Indian, the list goes on. And these are fine candlelight-and-napkins restaurants, mind you. Holland V caters to the expatriate crowd, for some reason. I don’t know if the food attracts the expats, or the restaurants open here because of the expats, but basically the net result is most of these places are far too posh and expensive for 2 students.
In the end we settled on Mexican food. We went to Cha Cha Cha the last time for my birthday, and it was great. We really enjoyed ourselves. Unfortunately, it was under renovation this time around. It so happened that its main competition, El Patio, was right next to it. I wonder why I only noticed it now…? The boyfriend wanted Mexican, and I wanted something filling, so in we went.
Sad to say, it wasn’t a fantastic experience. Probably the staff couldn’t be bothered with us, since we only asked for water, no drinks. “Arguably the best margaritas in town” - well, I’m not up to testing that claim today, sorry. Alcohol on a school night just doesn’t seem right. And anyway, we were just there to eat, not to really indulge.
The food was decent, but Cha Cha Cha’s was definitely better. My quesadillas were slightly burnt on the crust, and the taco was a little blah. There wasn’t any aroma that tempted you on to another bite, I was just eating because I was hungry. Halfway through, the boyfriend ran out of water, and it was some time before he got a refill.
When the bill came, it was for $38.45 so we both put up $20. The folder came back with no coins inside, which was a bit strange. There was a 10% service charge included in the bill, so by rights this was not a tipping establishment. So where was our $1.55?
We decided to just let it go, after all it was a small sum, not worth any unpleasantness over. Perhaps this place, being accustomed to serving Western customers, assumed that since we didn’t request for change when paying, it was a tip of sorts. I read on waitterant.net that if the change is quite a small sum, the waiter will assume that’s a tip, rather than make change. Still, the servers should have eyes enough to see that 2 very obviously young, non-expat Asians would not tip, if service charge was in the bill.
I know servers don’t make a lot of money, and the 10% service charge doesn’t really go to them, in the end, but hey - Singapore isn’t a tipping country, so that’s not MY problem. I might not even begrudge them that $1.55 (please, such a petty sum) if the service had warranted it. But no, I don’t think the service was anything special, so why should I pay them something special on top of the 10% service charge?
I checked on the net that El Patio had changed slightly from its previous incarnation, and cut prices by 20% to be more competitive. Well, sorry, mi amigo. I’d rather wait for Cha Cha Cha next door to be done renovating, than eat at your restaurant again. It just didn’t leave me feeling all happy inside.
What makes you happy?
I think I don’t like clubbing any more.
The last really good bash experience I had was last year’s DP preview bash. The EHOC bash at Tunnel wasn’t bad either. That was 6 months ago. In the intervening period, the bashes I’ve been to since are largely forgettable.
Last night at Phuture was quite as bad as the MW Bar bash. I didn’t really like the music, although $4 for a tequila shot isn’t bad. (Note to self: Tequila is a Phuture housepour.) It got a bit crazy when some of the freshmen aggregated into a huge bunch on the dancefloor and started jostling outsiders. They weren’t doing it intentionally, it was just that they were all closely packed, so it was a bit of a domino effect that when one moved, the others at the opposite side ended up displacing other people.
The Zouk side was playing house, not really a fave of mine, so in the end we gave up and decided to head home. While walking out, we were behind two guys who had a drunk girl in between them. I saw her earlier in the night, perfectly sober and talking to a girlfriend, and now she was incapable of supporting her own weight, and her shoes seemed to have dropped off somewhere because she was barefooted. Hello darling, Tara Reid’s famous drunken benders are a negative demonstration, not something to be followed…
The only thing I really like about going clubbing is that it gives me an excuse to wear really heavy and dark makeup.
I love how smooth my face looks. It isn’t that great in real life, actually. Ignore the asymmetrical eyes… I can’t help those. I have a wildly unbalanced face.
And today, I decided to head to Clementi Central, because the sister told me to buy her something, and I felt like having something other than instant noodles or ‘behind’ food for dinner. So I thought I’d make an adventure of it, and buy some tutu kuih.
Tutu kuih are small cakes of rice flour, with a filling of grated coconut and gula melaka. They are then steamed in moulds that give them their characteristic shape.
They are a childhood throwback for me, because my grandma used to buy them when I was little. They’re getting a bit difficult to find, and so far I’d never had any in Singapore. One day I was walking back from the supermarket, and just happened to see the sign advertising “famous tutu kueh” complete with framed newspaper clippings. In Singapore, if your food is good, there must be some sort of press coverage, since good food is a national obsession. My childish heart gave an inner leap, and I promised myself to buy some the next time.
They’re certainly more expensive than the KL kind- I got 5 for 2 dollars, but the usual price is 50 cents each. Apparently in SS2 in Petaling Jaya, one can get 3 for 1 ringgit. But hey, anything to make myself that little bit happier, right?
Pretty pretty pretty! Oh yeah. I figured that yellowish lighting makes food look warmer and better. So I fiddled with the white balance, since I can’t adjust my desk light.
Oh yummy yummy yummy! *wiggles toes in delight* It tastes just like the ones at home. I am happy.
The moral of the story is, eat foods that make you happy. And go easy on the booze.
I’ll survive as long as I have Charlie…
Still sick. Bah. That horrid lemon concoction of Panadol’s Cold and Flu Remedy doesn’t work. And it tasted horrid. Plus it rained in the afternoon so I stayed in and slept instead of going to the supermarket like I wanted to. Not that I was in any state to be going out, anyway.
Dinner brought some sunniness into the bleakness of my illness. The food was good. The curry was delicious. The soup was decent. And my Lost DVDs and a Stila eyeshadow arrived in the mail. You see, I frequently buy things online. Brand new things, slightly used things, people-making-a-living-from-online-selling things… I had been waiting for the DVDs for some time, because life in hall can get boring and Singaporean TV sucks. Besides, watching Desperate Housewives in a small window on the laptop can’t compare to the full-screened, High-Definition wonderfulness of LOST. I love HDTV. Even if you full-screen it, the quality is still fantastic. No pixelation, no lagginess. Beautiful.
And now that I have the gorgeous Charlie (played by Dominic Monaghan from Lord Of The Rings) to keep me company, perhaps I shall recover in time to attend the Dance Production’s bash on Friday. It’s a themed party, and the dress code is pink. Now you’d think I would have no problems finding something pink to wear. But the problem is, all my pink clothes are regular ’school clothes’, not the tight skimpy tops that are de rigeur at clubs. Perhaps I shall just wear my regular clothes after all. No one is going to look at me, and they shouldn’t, because the boyfriend is coming along.
All my sinuses are blocked and my head feels strangely heavy, as though I should be slowly nodding it forward and backward like those drinking birds at the novelty store. Must recover soon - I have class tomorrow.
Liquefied brain
It feels like my brain has melted into a puddle of mucus and is dripping out my nose. I am the victim of a particularly bad cold, although I avoided the worst of it by having Vitamin C for breakfast and paracetamol for lunch. I think I should just tape a bag under my nose and let it slowly fill up, instead of using up so many tissues.
I am still waiting for this DVD I ordered to arrive. I am in need of some entertainment, preferably in the form of surreal, mildly scary TV dramas. I’m finally jumping on the Lost bandwagon, about a year too late. Heck, I don’t care. Good tv is good tv.
Some idiot downstairs seems to think he’s a Hong Kong superstar and is singing very loudly and out of tune. In my native dialect. Hmph! Times like this, I really wish I had a Creature familiar to unleash on those who displease me. The nearest I can get to that is Scruffy, the hall cat, and the worst she can do is… sit outside their room. She’s so quiet she doesn’t even miaow.
Now I’m really tempted to do a Dr House, and pulverize my paracetamol with a razor blade and snort it like addicts do cocaine. “Something about the blood-brain barrier.” I need relief! Now!
Meanwhile a few more brain cells ride their watery escape out of my skull.
Your War Correspondent Reports…
It’s been a hell of a first week back at school. Highly anomalous first week in that it wasn’t the usual slack, languid week. As early as Wednesday, I was already being hounded to prepare for tutorials, already behind in my readings, and trying to allocate weekends to my hall activities.
I suppose because it wasn’t the first semester of the academic year, and even the freshies consider themselves seasoned students now, that there was a definite somberness in the air. Must have been the non-stop rain. You’d think we were filming the Old Testament and this was the Noah’s Ark part. It broke on Friday for a while, and now there seems to be some balance, with sun in the morning and rain in the evenings.
Little things happened throughout the week, but it seemed almost silly to give them each their own post, and as mentioned, I have been crazy busy. Today is the first day I’ve been able to take a guilt-free nap. Usually there’s this nagging feeling of “I really shouldn’t nap… I should be somewhere else, doing something else…” Ah, piffle that. I’ll sleep and enjoy it muchly. Continue Reading…
Back from the Land-of-Those-Who-Sleep-Too-Much
All right, I’m back in Busy-busy-land, aka hall. Which also means that I’m back on a superfast T1 connection, and now that I don’t have to wait and watch the roses wilt while uploading photos, y’all can have a look at what I did on New Year’s Day.
I went to the new Aquaria KLCC, which is basically a huge collection of fish and marine animals. I quite like the name Aquaria. First, it’s accurate, as there are many aquariums, not just one. Secondly, if you break up the name, you get Aqua-ria, which translates into Malay as Happy Aqua, or some sort of marine Disneyland. So it’s quite local-culturally appropriate as well.
Its denizens are generally quite commonplace, I mean who hasn’t seen fish and prawns and seahorses before, right? It’s a bit of a conservation-cum-education effort as well, because they have a couple of specimens that were caught by members of the public and given to Aquaria. Along with our entry tickets, we got a CD-ROM which is just full of their educational videos. I turned off the video after 10 seconds, but if you like gazing at synchronized schools of fish, it might be interesting to you.
Right, pictures.
The world’s largest freshwater fish, or something like that. This Amazonian arapaima eats little children for breakfast, and the two little chiddlers in the lower left of the picture were soon sacrificed to the fish. It’s really huuuuuuge. Not like a whale huge, but for something that lives in a river, it’s huge. Those black, flat pacu fish swimming around behind it aren’t lightweights either, catching one probably means fish dinners for a week.
In the tunnel, my sis and I were just minding our own business, taking wacky self-portraits, when we heard a sinister whooshing behind us, and I came face to face with the above. It was an unnerving experience, especially with all those teeth nicely arrayed in front of me, like walking into a dental office and seeing the tools all laid out on the steel tray.
After that I had to find something benign and calming, and went off to snap the above picture of a marine aquarium. It was a main photo site for the visitors, because everyone wanted a picture with small, colourful fish flitting around corals. So long as none of the fish decide to stage an escape attempt… I don’t want to be finding Nemo dried into a little orange crust on the floor. Muahahaha.
I just thought its hand-like fins were interesting. That and the fact that it was easily mistaken for a rock. With the other fish, it was difficult to get them to pose, but this one was a natural. However, even Zoolander had a wider repertoire of poses.
And finally, apropos of nothing, but because I want to reassure the world that I am as dumb and bimbotic as ever:
I left my pencil case in KL. All my stationery was in there. I don’t even have a pencil to draw with! Although I admit that I do have a few pens, a pair of scissors and a set of coloured pencils at my disposal. I shall have to wait till Chinese New Year to get the case back. Bah!
And yet I can remember to bring back all my cosmetics. Misplaced priorities indeed.
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