The dysfunctionality index of my family is sky-rocketing. Things are going way crazy back home and down under.

I'll tell you all about it if you're a close friend and contact me personally.

I'd like to say I'm sorry but I can't deal with problems when I'm a few thousand miles away from them.

Am I whining?

I heard a good quote today. Applies to people who whine and self-pity a lot.

"Get off the cross, sister. We need the wood."

A wonderful feeling as I write the 565th word of my essay. I haven't written anything academic in such a long, long time. I am determined to finish the essay tonight. As it gets later and later, I write better and better. I have always been a night person. There is no use trying to write in the morning. It's like trying to do a side parting on my permanently centre-parted hair.

And tonight is the most ideal night of the year for writing. Why? Because tonight, clocks go back an hour! I am so excited! It's my first time experiencing daylight savings time in person. So starting tomorrow, I will be 8 hours behind Singapore time instead of seven. Not that it matters to anybody back home. Nobody calls me anyway. Skype is the way to go if only because it is free.

I find myself looking a lot at the mirror these days. Just to see a face. (see previous post) I don't think it is very healthy. Living alone will take some time to get used to.

There was an unusual conversation between the half English-half Swiss guy and the Iranian guy in the kitchen this afternoon. Topic of debate was whether Iran should be allowed to develop nuclear capability. The Iranian used the analogy: Cars lead to accidents but the main purpose of a car is for transport. Should you prevent people from having cars just because there are accidents? He also said something along the lines of how it wasn't right that countries like US, China, India have nuclear capabilities themselves are trying to stop Iran developing its own. The other guy's line of argument went somewhere along the lines of: if Iran were to be able to develop nuclear technology, the situation in the middle east would become so unstable that a single pin drop would most likely result in nuclear Armageddon. Still, it was quite a calm "conversation" throughout which I was silent and sat eating my bread. I find these fellas very interesting.

I sit in my lonely little room and try to write a 2000-2500 word essay. Is archaeology useful to society? The more I research, the more I'm disenchanted with the subject. I'm in deep shit. I need to talk to my supervisor soon.

Over dinner last night, I asked one of the fellas in my flat about interesting things to do in this city other than going to the pub. He suggested the cinema, or taking a train down to another city like Leeds or Manchester or London. That appeals to me but being all alone means I have no one to go with. I felt sad and pathetic and so retreated to my room to watch a dvd.

The room is warm and cozy. It is quite and peaceful outside. God, this is boring. My headphones in my ear talk and sing to me but we've never had a satisfying conversation. I open the door to my wardrobe to look at the face in the mirror inside. I know you will call me mad if I talked to my reflection but can you really blame me? It is the only human face I've seen today. (did I say human?)

The English value their privacy a lot. I'm beginning to realise that the line between Privacy and Isolation is very fine and subtle indeed.

Today is such a nice day. The sky is blue and the sun is shining. Funny how I hate sunshine in Singapore and look forward to it here. The city was busy with holiday school kids. There were street stalls and entertainers. There was even an opera group singing in one of the city squares. Wonderful wonderful day. How can I possibly do my 2000-2500 word essay (due on Monday) on this beautiful day? I have no choice but to procrastinate. I'm going out to look at some sun now.

Poetic Moment

Sometimes, when I'm too tired, I get the urge to write poetry. This feels like one such moment. So, here goes!

Give me a penny for my thoughts
One shiny coin
And I will bare my mind to you
Though not my soul
For I do not know where it resides

The Body
The Mind
The Soul
The Essentials
One soul so elusive
Like the penny that fell

Behind my altar to you

And was forgotten
And left there
Until it was
Shiny no more

With a hidden soul
So hidden be
Faith
Love
Joy
In the dusty crevice

Behind my altar to you

- Audrey Teo. 27 October 2005. 12.31am

Please feel free to comment, critique and criticise and also to call it a load of sleepy-eyed crap

Song Change! Sun Years by Scotland Barr and The Slow Drags. The other song had been up for far too long. Hope you like this one. Tell me when you get bored of it and I'll find another.

The Cave, the Damsel in Distress and the Baby on the Road

Life has become exciting once again. Exhilaratingly, shockingly, exciting.

I went caving yesterday. The experienced members of the club thought it would be fun to bring us to one of the wettest caves in the area for our first trip. On the way there, the brake pads of the minibus we were in caught fire and the smell of burning rubber prompted us to stop. The thick black smoke coming from the front left wheel informed us that the minibus could go no further. Alternative transport by car was arranged but there wasn't enough space for everyone so we had to draw lots. Four people went back. I didn't. (maybe I should have)

When we reached the cave area, it was raining heavily. We had to strip to our underwear in the open to get into our caving gear. How fun. The cave gear consisted of a fleece under suit, an over suit, wet socks, Wellington boots, knee pads, a battery belt, a battery, a helmet and a light attached to it. We looked like extreme miners as we trudged up the hills to the cave entrance.

Imagine a river. Imagine a dark confined space. Put the two together and you might have some idea of the cave I went into. It was very cold in there and breath was misting all over the place. When I scrapped my hands on the rock, it bled for a while and then stopped because it was too cold. Thanks to my great height, I was completely submerged in some parts. There where also parts that were so narrow you had to go on your belly with your head turned to one side to get through. Remember the muddy shitty water of the Yorkshire dales I told you about in a previous post? Yes, I was walking, crawling and swimming in that. And just to liven things up, I did a lot of girly squealing. Wasn't really scared, just felt like squealing. LL will remember how my good squeal sounds like. Why do I go caving? Obviously because I have very strong survival instincts. I mean, nobody with a death wish would submerge themselves underground in cold, dark spaces in rushing water on slippery rocks, right?

When we finally emerged from the cave, we once again had to change in the open. Trying to change your wet underwear in the open, on muddy, sheep shitty ground, holding a little towel for modesty was a fascinating experience. It is not polite to stare.

On the way back, we stopped by a pizza takeaway. On the way back to the car, we decided to jump over a chest high stone wall to get back to the car instead of walking the long way. Cold, dark and wet night. What better time and place to go jumping over stone walls right? One girl slipped and whacked her elbow. After being on the road for about half an hour, the pain became too much for her to bear and we had to make a detour to a nearby hospital A & E. I went with her and spent about an hour and a half being Florence Nightingale to a girl I barely knew. It's not the first time I've impersonated Florence Nightingale. I always seem to be doing things like that for injured people of all sorts. It turned out to be a hairline fracture. She was given a sling and some painkillers. We drove back to the University where I took her up to her room. (the Florence Nightingale inclination again) Then I walked back to my college in the rainy night. I arrived at my house at 11 pm, dead tired, dripping wet and shivering and aching (from the caving) but nobody was around to give pity so I had to self-pity.

This morning, I dragged myself out of bed to go to mass. Am I stupid? Not really. I had motivation. I went to confession on Friday and I clearly remember the Father saying to me," See you at mass on Sunday" (translation: I'll be keeping an eye out for you so you better be there) Well...

After mass, I walked back to my room along the busy road that cuts through the university. On the way, I met a Chinese girl who was lost. Luckily, I had my trusty map (one of the three I carry all the time) and was able to show her the way. She was heading in the same direction as I was so we walked together. On the way, she got a call from her friend who was waiting for her, so we walked faster. Suddenly, I saw a baby crawl out of an open gate from a house beside the road and onto the road in the path of an oncoming car. I started running. Luckily, the car was going quite slowly and the driver managed to stop in time. I picked up the baby and walked through the open gate. The mother had just come out of the house and was looking for the baby. When she saw me holding him, she realised what must have happened. She was so shocked that she only remembered to say thank you when I turned to leave. Not that I minded. The baby was cute and blond.

Strange happenings, don't you think? I don't know if they are coincidences or just Somebody trying to send me some incomprehensible message. I wouldn't have become Florence Nightingale if I had drawn the lot for going back (it was a 1 in five chance). I probably wouldn't have gone to mass today because I was so tired out from the Florence Nightingaling last night. But I somehow decided to go. I wouldn't have been there by the road at the crucial moment the baby crawled out if I hadn't been walking with the Chinese girl. It's all been so strange. I assure you it's all 100% true and I'm making anything up. I'm not even exaggerating like I usually do. The actual events are more exciting than anything I could make up.

Coincidence? What do you think?

Today, I collected my bike from the bike shop where it had just been serviced. I cycled back to my house. All on my own, my first time cycling on the road with big scary cars and trucks whooshing by me. I was terrified and petrified. The last time I rode a bike, I was about 9 yrs old. And I fell and injured myself. So you can imagine how absolutely frozen with fear I was. I had to keep reminding myself not to give in to the urge to close my eyes as it would most likely be the last thing I ever did.

I eventually reached the house alive and breathing. I went to put my bike in the bike shed where I met the Iranian guy who had just come back too. And he said, "Congratulations! You made it!" And I replied, "Shit, I'm freaking terrified" I had to go to the kitchen to drink 2 cups of water and a cup of hot chocolate before my heart rate started to return to normal. Shit man.. being all alone in a strange land doing scary things alone really scares me to death. I need to get some heart attack medicine.

Dear people,
I shall indulge you with these lovely photos. They were taken about 2 weeks ago when my parents were still here to drive me around the Yorkshire country. The first few aren't very nice because they were taken with my father's 3.2 megapix camera. (so last year...). The later ones are nice cos they were taken with my trusty little 5.1 (so last month, I know).

I went to a Castle Howard on a foggy day. It was too foggy for any photos of the castle itself to be any good. Luckily, photos taken in the castle gardens turned out just fine. I walked down the passageway into the Secret Garden.



Here are some flowers that you don't get to see alive in Singapore.








Roses always look better alive and attached to a plant rather than dead and wrapped in some shiny paper.


Here's the famous Whitby Abbey which was once the lair of Dracula, if you believe Bram Stoker. The day I was there, it was misty and clammily cold. The dark imposing facade of the gothic ruins were truly impressive. Very atmospheric. As my watch ticked dangerously close to sunset time, I hurried my parents out of the place. Just in case the undead Count was still hanging around the place. You can never be too careful.





I also visited a waterfall somewhere in the yorkshire dales. I'm particularly proud of this photo. Looks like one of those waterfall calendar photos. I must be a real genius to make shitty brown water look so good.



The Yorkshire Dales is a beautiful place. Here, you can see the shade of green that grass was meant to be. You can see the little stone wall that you've always read about in story books. It's so beautiful that it makes you really contemplate Creation and Creator. No wonder cows go mad.



And in some places, heather lends the hills fiery colours.



Here is a picture of just 0.09% of the ducks on campus. It is believed that duck shit holds up the bridges crossing the lake.



This is York Minster which located very near King's Manor in the city where I have my lectures and seminars etc. It's too big to capture fully in one photo. Buildings like these were built to impress.





An ancient city wall surrounds the city centre. You can walk on it. These structures play a very important role in my navigation system. As long as I can see them, I can tell whether I'm in the city or outside it. This is significant as I spend 60% of my time being lost.





This is also a very important landmark. It's Clifford's Tower. I know it as The Thing On The Hill. When I see it, I know that it is time for me to get off the bus so that I will be on Clifford's Street. Getting lost is really a pain in the ass.



This is King's Manor, the medieval building in the city where I study. Tourists visit all the time but only students and university staff have access to all parts of the building.



Ok. That's all I'm prepared to upload for your viewing pleasure. It's too tedious. Of course, I have about a million more pictures but these are the pick of the lot. Regarding requests for pictures of my room, I'll think about it. Maybe when I'm bored.

I've just come back from the Sports Centre on campus where I attended my very first Caving Club training session. It was quite fun. The best way to describe it would be like rock climbing without the rock wall. I went up this rope which was attached to a beam near the roof of the sports centre. Because you don't have a wall like in rock climbing, you have a much higher chance of spinning round and round on the rope so I was a little bit seasick after that. I'm going on a caving trip this saturday. I'll tell you all about it.

I skyped with doggy before I went for the caving training. Doggy is a lousy gossip person. She doesn't know any juicy rumours at all. LL, where are you?

Oh, and can somebody like LL please check up on XY? She seems to be getting into all sort of uncomfortable and (in my opinion) not very safe situations. Maybe some good advice on how to avoid trouble would be useful. No offence to XY, but when it comes to putting yourself in risky situations, you haven't learnt the power of "NO, fuck off"

Yesterday, I went to mass for the first time in many, many years. After mass, which was held in a lecture room, we walked over to the village church where the ladies in the church fed us with pizza, salads and the yummiest apple and berry crumbles and pies with hot custard sauce and cream. My Iranian neighbour accused me of going only for the food. Hee Hee...

I signed up for the mailing list for the Islamic society during freshers' fair. Actually, I signed up for so many mailing lists that I can't remember what I signed up for. So, I got an email saying that there was a meeting at 5.30pm for muslims and non-muslims of the Islamic society. It seemed a bit wrong to go to church in the morning, then to an Islamic meeting in the evening. I was also afraid that they might be the pushy sort who would try to get me to wear a tudong. So, I decided not to go.

Today, I had my first lecture. It was quite good but the lecturer flashed the slides really fast. I don't think he meant for us to copy down everything but most of us, including me, did.

I forgot to tell you a bit about the location of my course. My course is situated in King's manor which is a medieval building in York city, near York Minster. I live in the university campus which is outside of the city. To get to King's manor, I can take an hour-long walk, ride a bike or take a bus. Because my bike remains broken for the time being, I had to take the bus. A return tickets costs £2.30 (that's about S$6.90). How fun.

I also met my supervisor today. Every student has a personal supervisor who performs a role not unlike that of a form teacher. Mine's an Aussie woman. She had 2 dogs in her office. When I stepped in and sat down, the dogs came over and tried to lick me. Just to be polite, I patted them in a friendly, non-aggressive manner. I imagined that I was patting Grace the Dog.

My lecture ended at 11.30am and my meeting with my supervisor was at 3.30pm. In the four hours in between, I wandered the city aimlessly. Normally, I enjoy wandering aimlessly in new cities (like I did in Perth) but this time it wasn't very fun. I think I'm still homesick.

I bought some microwave meal thing for dinner. Just pop it in for 3 minutes and it's ready to eat. Haha, never thought I'd be eating this sort of crap.

And now, after my microwaved meal of mushroom rice, I sit in my room and try to decipher my lecture notes of the day. I can't really understand my writing so I give up and stare at blue bear-bear. Yes, he appears to still be homesick. Come on, blue bear-bear, I bet a nice shower will cure everything.

Homesickness hit yesterday. Ouch! I went to sit in the common kitchen because the light was brighter and less depressing and also because there would be people coming and going that I could talk to. I found out that I am the youngest person on the floor. Everyone else is over 20. Damn! An Iranian guy showed me some card tricks to cheer me up. Quite funny reallly, I'll show you when I get back. He also advised me to go out and explore to beat the homesickness.

Today, I packed a little bag, locked up my room and started to walk home. I walked and walked and walked for many, many miles. Then, suddenly, I realised that I had reached the sea. The weather was too cold for swimming so I turned back and walked back to my room. I talked to my blue bear-bear and he was homesick too. I talked to my geranium. It wasn't homesick because it had grown up in this place so I put it out on the cold window ledge since it liked the cloudy, wet weather so much.

Then, I went out and joined the caving and potholing club. I just want to die in a cold, dark place.

Btw, boon just wrote a very good short story thing on her blog featuring Pooh and piglet. It is a work of art. I don't think she realises that it is very good. Good structure, suspense and surprise. She probably thinks it's a bit of random rubbish but I think it's a masterpiece. I'm not going to copy it here so go to her blog and read for yourself. Fishbones.blogspot.com

Hello from York! Yes, this is very, very far away from everybody. Kids in aussieland are literally on the other side of the world, thus the expression, down under. I won't be posting any pictures up yet cos I'm lazy but I'll write about random interesting things. There is no chronological order because my brain doesn't really like numbers and dates are numbers.

I went to see the ruins of Whitby Abbey. Gothic Lit. students should remember that Dracula hid in Whitby Abbey and the Van Helsing gang went there to look for him. It is really a fantastic place. The ruins are exactly how Bram Stoker described them. Seriously gothic stuff. I stayed there for a long time, trying to find the vampire's coffin. Then, suddenly, I noticed that it was getting dark so I faster siam. The photos are in Steven's camera cos my poor camera died that day so I must wait for them to be emailed to me before I can post them up. Please wait with bated breath.

From the Abbey ruins, I looked down and saw the river Esk. Again, Gothic Lit. students will remember that this was the scene for the river chase in Stoker's Dracula. Whitby is really a fantastic place because other than cool ruins, this seaside town is also the place where super yummy cod is caught.

I also visited Scarborough. You know, the song that goes : Are you going to Scarborough Faire? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Bullshit. Maybe a long, long time ago, it was a charming little seaside town. Sadly, today, it is the charming little commercialised seaside town of casinos and dogshit. There was so little beach because there was this whole casino belt with neon lights built all along the beach. And the floor was filthy. Dogshit everywhere. The evening that I was there, it was so foggy that I couldn't really see the floor (I'm serious) and was so scared of stepping on the dogshit. We quicly had dinner at a restaurant away from the beach and drove back to York even though we originally planned to stay the night in Scarborough and it was about 2 hours' drive back in the dark fog.

After the trauma of Scarborough, we decided to be closer to nature. So, we drove to the Yorkshire Dales. It's this very large area of land that is protected National Park which has gentle hills and lots of farm and natural formations like waterfalls etc. There was a very interesting formation called the buttertubs. In a sort of valley place with winds that can push you forward if you don't hold on to something, there are holes in the ground. When you look down the holes, you can see water flowing down rocks at the side. Like a mini waterfall in a hole. And right at the bottom of these 24foot deep holes, there are caves. I shouted hello to any aliens or undiscovered lifeforms that might be living down there before I rushed back to the car to defrost.

Steven and Mummy went back today in KiTTY. KiTTY is the name of the rented Ford car which had a license plate number: K05TTY. It just looked like KiTTY to me.

So now I'm all alone in this foreign land. I'm a stranger in a strange land just like Dracula was in England.

On my floor, there is only one other first year undergrad. He's an Iranian and just now in the kitchen, we were having communication problems. Every sentence had to be repeated 2 or 3 times because I couldn't understand his accent and he couldn't understand mine. Do you think it might be because I was deliberately doing a very strong Singlish accent? I could be subconsciously homesick.

I'm slowly accumulating people's christmas presents in the storage area that is under my bed. So far, Doggy has something. Are you happy Doggy? The rest will be added over the next two months and hopefully I will have a complete Santa Claus bag in time for when I return for Christmas