Monthly Archive
Browsing entries posted on February 2007
I’m not feeling the tong-tong-chang
Ahem. “Tong-tong-chang” is the typical sound of a Chinese drum topped off with a cymbal crash. You hear this sound a lot during the Chinese New Year period, when lorries laden with lion dance troupes go trundling around the city, banners flapping in the wind. My dog hates this sound, but then he’s generally afraid of loud sounds anyway.
So yes, I’m not feeling the Chinese New Year mood this year. Perhaps it’s different back home - my sister warned me that my house looks like a gold paint explosion - but it’s really quiet here in hall. IHG just ended, Dance Production is tonight, and those 2 things involve like 70% of the hall population, so everyone’s been dealing with that. And the remaining 30% have midterm exams and term papers to worry about. Who has time for tong-tong-chang when the good ol’ Sword of Damocles called Continual Assessment is dangling over one’s head?
I probably won’t be feeling very excited until I’m within the boundaries of Kuala Lumpur City once more. Immigration isn’t a good place to be excited, I kena luggage check twice already - probably due to my slightly insane demeanour and insanely large suitcase. The highway isn’t very festive either - unless you count the traffic policemen carrying out Ops Sikap XII or whichever iteration the road safety campaign is on now. Gosh, I hope my bus won’t get delayed by police checks. No, it’ll be on the deserted streets of the capital city that tong-tong-chang will really hit me. It’s not a festival unless the city is empty, y’all!
And it’s not that I have no kampung to balik to. My family are 3rd-generation KLites, KL is our kampung. Oh, we might go visit relatives situated in other places, but that’s about it. I don’t understand people who look at me pitifully when I say I’m spending Chinese New Year in KL, as if I had to return to some backwater ancestral village to certify it as a real festival. Doesn’t the fact that I’m leaving Singapore count as balik kampung, anyway?
So yes, tomorrow, the prodigal KLite returns. And maybe the tong-tong-chang will be in full swing.
A Look Back
*Paid Post*
It’s been almost a month since I signed up with Pay Per Post, and announced that I would be getting paid to blog. Immediately I was lambasted for not passing on the word to other similarly cash-strapped blogger friends, but that’s a story for another post.
So far this is Paid Post #10, so I guess my output, while not prolific, is still quite respectable. At an average of $5.00 per post, this bumps up my “to be paid” amount to $50.00. I’m assuming that’s in US dollars. It’s not a big deal, but think about it. I just made that money, doing what I usually do, with minimum expense on my part. Okay, so maybe it needs a time investment, but I already spend hours in front of the computer doing nothing more productive than perving guitar websites.
It’s been quite an enjoyable experience so far, despite the accusations of having sold out my soul to the great temple of Mammon. While I’ll admit that some posts are quite incongruent with the general blog feel, I always try and link back to my blogging philosophy. Besides, I can’t write what I know nothing about. Being given specific topics to blog about also works my writing muscle. Now I know how advertising copywriters feel, except that I don’t work under such demanding deadlines.
As for what I’m going to do with the money… well, I don’t really have huge plans for 50 bucks, honestly. I have enormously expensive tastes, so I’ll have to work harder and accumulate a bit more before I can do some serious shopping with money that I earned myself. Oh, it feels so good to say that.
F.L.Y. Report
Shaminta on lead guitar
The band rocking it out during Slither
Sridar works the crowd
The crowd, with me in front of the Eusoffian section
Onstage during To Love Somebody
Working the stage
Belting it out for Little Miss Perfect
Crowd voting session
“Louder! Louder!”
And the crowd votes with their voices
Band Picture
2nd voting session
Nips hoisted aloft by the adoring crowd onstage
Victory is ours!
Me + Camera = Pose!
With loyal supporters and helpful advice-givers
Bask in Bulgaria
*Paid Post*
Thanks to the Harry Potter series, the first thing that comes to mind when Bulgaria is mentioned is Durmstrang, fur coats and harsh winters. The actor who portrays Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang student, is indeed Bulgarian. But a quick perusal of Wikipedia informs me that there’s more to Bulgaria than the bitter cold.
Their ski resorts, Borovets, Bansko and Pamporovo are very popular with visitors from the British Isles, and will probably continue to increase in popularity as Bulgaria is a new member of the European Union.
Bulgaria’s coastline fronts the Black Sea, which is famous for its mild, sunshiny weather which is somewhat Mediterranean. In between the mountains and the sea, Bulgaria also has natural parks, and historical monuments left behind from the Byzantine era.
The incredible diversity of geography and climate means that those considering investing in property in Bulgaria will be spoilt for choice.
What I’m looking for.
If you were told you would die at 40, how would you choose to live your life?
I’ve always felt I wouldn’t live to see old age. I’m not being morbid or trying to make a prediction or anything like that, it’s just that I can’t imagine myself being older than 40. When I look ahead, the furthest I can see is the big signpost that marks ‘40′ and that’s it.
So, going by that logic, I’ve already lived more than half my lifespan. Have I achieved anything of note, taking into account my relative youth? Have I had interesting experiences? Am I squandering my given minutes, or am I doing something I can look back on with, if not pride, then at least a sense of getting my time’s worth?
This is what drives me to act the way I do, to make the decisions that I make. To derive the greatest experience out of life. To see and feel and hear and taste as much as possible. To exist, to be, to live.
The more I feel that my time is running out, the more experience I crave. I pay more attention to my physical senses. I want to see the light of a full moon on a tranquil ocean, the gorgeous curves of a guitar, the sculpted perfection of the human body. I want to hear laughter, the purr of a roadster’s engine, the driving beat of a phat bass line. I want to taste sushi and char kuay teow and gelato and maybe even deepfried grasshoppers. I follow my nose, which shuns insecticide fog and cigarette smoke and leads me to Carolina Herrera’s Aqua and scented candles and luxurious lotions that make me almost want to chew on myself, because I smell so edible. Above all, I want to feel. I want to run my hands down a velvet dress, I want to sleep on 500-thread-count sheets, I want to stroke a baby’s chubby cheek and soft downy hair.
When your life is framed within a finite limit, you start thinking about using your time better. You sacrifice sleep to watch the sunrise. You stay home on a Saturday night to finish reading the novel that’s been acclaimed as ‘a modern classic’. You put off doing your readings because there was a live band playing and you just had to go see them. Okay, so ‘using your time better’ is a subjective opinion. But in the end, are you going to regret not doing your readings, or are you going to regret never seeing a live performance?
When you let go of the aura of immortality and invincibility that permeates adolescence, you start to realise how precious life, every moment of it, is. You take in everything. The red brick pattern that you’ve walked for years, the cerulean blue of the sky on a sunny day, even the chirpy birdsong that wakes you up far too early on a weekend morning. You enjoy just being alive in the world, being able to experience all these sensations. You lose your jadedness, because you know one day, all these will end and you will be no more.
Just as I work better with deadlines to prevent procrastination, so too do I appreciate life more fully when the end is in sight. I don’t want to live life wishing I’d done something instead of nothing. I’ll survive a roller-coaster ride. Grasshoppers might give me a stomach upset but nothing a few trips to the toilet won’t solve. Broken hearts will heal, which is good because if they didn’t, we’d all go through life too timid to love someone fully.
All the above, of course, is nicely summed up in my blog description. “The Funnerology Principle” isn’t just about having fun, like going clubbing or driving fast cars. It’s about getting the most out of life, because life itself is one big fun ride and it’d be a waste if we were too scared to enjoy it.
Love Shouldn’t Cost A Thing
*Paid Post*
Romance is a hugely profitable business, and not just for florists in February. One of the Internet’s highest revenue-earning industries is online dating sites. These sites charge a subscription fee for members to put their profile online, and to access other lonely hearts’ profiles.
Now there’s no more reason why people should have to pay for a chance at love. Revolutionizing the dating game, JustSayHi.com now offers a Free Dating service. No credit card information is required, it’s totally free. Yet it looks and works just as well as a paid site. It already has thousands of members, and I’m not exaggerating. Can you handle 50 pages worth of profiles, baby?
Right now their sign-up form only has options for the US or Canada, but here’s hoping they expand to our part of the globe soon! Love should be democratized!
My Musical Journey, 3rd Movement
I completed my piano studies shortly before taking the SPM. Freed of the burden of daily practices, I neglected the piano, and besides I was sitting for a make-or-break examination. Before I had the time to rediscover the piano as a friend and not as a foe, I left for Singapore.
Ironically, it was in Singapore that I began to better appreciate the piano as a medium of expression. Many of the other kids also played piano, and booking the piano room was a matter of utmost importance to us. It was a social gathering, a flirting point, a punching bag for the times when the world seemed arrayed against me.
My singing didn’t improve, however. I was tempted to join the choir, but when I was told it involved an audition, I lost my nerve. That remains one of the biggest regrets of my JC life. No doubt choir would have improved my JC experience, but as it was, I turned out just fine. And the fact that I’m in choir now assuages the pangs of what might have been.
I had my first taste of singing before an audience when I entered Talentime. I delivered a miserable rendition of Ronan Keating’s When You Say Nothing At All, and it was one of the most embarrassing performances of my life. But it was the first step in my journey to becoming the vocalist I am today.
Also while in JC, I joined the String Ensemble, where they attempted to teach me to play the violin. Allow me to state without reservation that this instrument is one of the least ergonomic ever. Tucking my chin into my shoulder was tedious, but tolerable. The breaking point was the fact that I could never hold the bow correctly, no matter how I practised with my toothbrush while running through my dental routine. So I gave that up, and apart from occasional forays into the piano room, I again left my musical self behind.
In many ways, uni life opened me to new experiences, and old experiences revisited. In my freshman year, I made it into the choir, thus fulfilling one of my childhood dreams. I acted onstage, and even though I sucked, at least I found enjoyment in it. The band held auditions, but since I couldn’t play, I didn’t try out. Just as well, because they wouldn’t have let me in anyway.
But the most important thing in this story is what uni did for me, creatively speaking. I began to understand the nuances. I learnt what it meant to blend our voices, how to sing harmony, and probably most important of all, how to be comfortable on stage. As I eased into my role as a performer, the music started to take over. That’s where the story takes a dramatic turn, for which the wheels had been set in motion a long time ago, if only I had paid attention.
Do Buy Dubai
*Paid Post*
Dubai Venture is a portal that offers the opportunity to own high-end, innovative private property in a rapidly developing region, where the weather is always hot and the culture cosmopolitan.
Dubai, that oasis of luxury and pleasure, is one of the United Arab Emirates. It’s probably most famous for the Burj Al-Arab, the sail-shaped hotel that sits on its own island and is also the tallest hotel in the world. Besides that, innovative developments such as the Palm Islands and The World have attracted the moneyed classes who have invested in dubai property.
Wikipedia tells me that unlike most of the Middle East, Dubai’s revenue comes not from oil, but from being a duty free hub, and also a tourist attraction. It has a significant expatriate population, and foreigners are allowed to own certain properties which are designated as freeholds. In fact, megaprojects such as The World are targeted at foreigners who want the luxury of owning an island.
My Musical Journey, 2nd Movement
In Malaysia, we have Music in the primary school curriculum. At a lower level, pupils are encouraged to just enjoy music. I remember that we’d have singalong sessions, and we would write down the lyrics of the songs in our exercise books and decorate it with pictures. Because of this common learning, it’s not unusual to see Malaysians start singing songs about their kereta or nasi lemak or other such ditties that we learned way back as little chiddlers. This is apparently a common phenomenon among Malaysian students who are overseas.
At the upper level of primary school, music education takes a more formal turn with the introduction of music theory. Those of us who started piano lessons at a young age had a huge advantage over the rest of the class, because note pitches and rhythms were almost intuitive to us by now. We would actually get distressed if we scored 98 or 99 out of 100 on the written tests, because this was basic musical theory that we had mastered years ago. Also significant at this level is the introduction of an instrument - the recorder. While the little kids get to tinkle the triangles and clap the castanets, the big kids have to learn the subtleties of actually making melodies on that glorified whistle.
This was my first foray into learning an instrument other than the piano. Ok, so in Standard Three I was tasked with playing the pianica in the school band, but that’s basically just a piano with a mouthpiece. The recorder presented a whole new challenge, one that I never really mastered although I could manage a decent snake-charmer’s tune on it.
In Standard Four, the band conductor upgraded my classmates and me to playing the clarinet, which I did not enjoy. I couldn’t understand the mechanics of making a sound out of it. I seriously could not produce any notes, and when I did make a sound, it sounded like a duck being murdered.
Mercifully, they changed me to the glockenspiel in Standard Five. While the layout of the keys was still the same as that of the piano keyboard, playing it was a whole different experience. First, there was the matter of moving it. The glockenspiel is made out of solid metal bars. Looking back, it was great fun moving that behemoth around, it needed 4 of us girls to move it. Then, because I used mallets and I only have two hands, I had to be quicker at hitting the notes. Playing running notes with 2 mallets and playing the same notes with 10 fingers on the piano - totally different.
The secondary school curriculum has no time for such frivolities as music, so I left that part of myself behind, concentrating only on passing my piano exams. By this time, the technical skills demanded of me had surpassed my innate talent, so I really struggled to get through the grading exams. I had turned into a piano mugger. I very rarely played for pleasure, and I also hardly ever got any pleasure out of playing.
On the other hand, I discovered my voice. I had always enjoyed singing, but in secondary school I realised that I could really express my emotions and feel alive when I raised my voice in song. Probably the Friday fellowship meetings, where songs and games were a main focus, helped to push this realisation along. But I still never had the guts to perform on stage, or expand my musical horizons, which as we shall see, remains a huge regret of mine.
The Best Gift Is A Laugh
*Paid Post*
If you’re like me, giant portions of your life, including social aspects, revolve around your computer and the Internet. Has it gotten to the point where you rely on Friendster or some other direct-to-inbox reminders that your friends’ birthdays are approaching? At this point, it’s already too late to rush out and buy a card. Besides, have you seen how much Hallmark and Memory Lane are charging for their cards nowadays?
When my friends have their big day rolling around, I like to send free, funny birthday ecards to them. I like ecards because they’re interactive. Normal paper cards don’t have Flash movies embedded in them. I’m not a sentimental sort of person, and it’d get awkward if I sent them maudlin cards with mushy lines. And I think it’s really important that they have a good time on their birthday, so I usually go for humorous cards.
I’ve sent quite a few ecards to my friends, and while they were cute, I couldn’t send them to my guy friends because, well, they were too cute. But Egreetings.com has created some rather naughty and risque cards that you can use to tease the birthday boy, such as Your Choice Of Dessert, which I like for its nudge-nudge-wink-wink factor. Or if you just want to make them laugh, try Birthday Chins for a visually entertaining card.
For a yearly subscription fee of US$13.99, you can have your pick of ecards, and schedule them in advance so you don’t miss the big day. Their cards cover all occasions, even oddball holidays. With the lovers’ celebration coming soon, now is a good time to send free, funny Valentine’s Day eCards. A 30-day trial membership is available, and you can send unlimited ecards during this period. And of course, all cards can be personalized with a message and even pictures, so it’s just as sincere as a traditional card. Only cheaper, and more convenient.
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