I scored my first major victory in the campaign for maid's rights. Jovelyn (the new maid) now has a door with a lock for her room. For the past few months, she has been living and sleeping in a room with no door. I did it with a combination of coercion and threat. I mean, getting frustrated didn't help (Adela tried that when she was here). Asking nicely didn't work (I tried it at first). So, I had to threaten and do that psycho thing that I sometimes do (guilt is the key). But look at the nice new door! It is only right that this young girl who has come to work in a strange country in a house with strangers has a lockable door to her room. Sometimes, the ends justify the means.

Yesterday, I had a nice BBQ at East Coast Beach with my family.
The first two pictures show how I have changed my "look" since coming home.

First, I visited the hairdresser's,



Then I visited the dentist, who did a fantastic job.



With my new looks, I tried to pick up a hunky swimsuit model.



My lovely grandmother. Her hair is almost like mine.



On a rocky wave break, a little boy ran towards me as the sun set.



For now, his feet are still smaller than mine. But not for long.



The food was good...




And the Satay man was psychotic. Driven insane by Satay so big they were more Kebab than Satay.

Back in Singapore where it is always far too hot and humid. I went out yesterday and was sorely tempted to start stripping in the streets.

LL and XY met me at the airport and we had dinner at Sakae Sushi. Yummy Yummy. Sushi tastes gooooooood.

I got home and my grandmother was the only one visibly excited to see me. My mother said Hello and opened the door for me. My father just sat in his chair and said Hi. My brother said Hi in a bored, monotonous voice without looking away from the computer screen. Times like this, you doubt if they want you back at all.

There is a stranger in my house. Her name is Jovelyn and she is the new Filipino maid. I don't know her at all and it is such an uncomfortable situation having to negotiate my way around her. I posted a letter and bought stamps for her yesterday, hopefully I will get to know her better soon. You all know how much I "like" new people.

I have issues with this maid in the home thing. I don't approve of the way my parents and grandmother treat servants. It's all wrong, wrong, wrong. I don't like it at all. I believe that maids in the home must be treated kindly and as equals. This is not happening in my home. I gave my father some advice on it yesterday and explained how unwise it is to try to prevent Jovelyn from making her own friends here.

I think it was in one of the Harry Potter books that a character said," the true measure of a man is not how he treats his equals but how he treats his inferiors."
Adela has the same opinion on this issue but she is not here to support my campaign for human rights.

My mother kindly informed me that I should work in the Summer vacation to save up money for after graduation. I am getting kicked out of the house after I finish my Masters (if I decide to do it). I asked her where I should work/live after graduation. She said, "anywhere you like but I will not be paying any money for you." I'm supposed to save money to keep myself alive in the time between after graduation and the first pay check.
She gets extremely unhappy when I talk about how I would very much like to do some travelling around Europe in the summer. The situation has completely changed from six months ago when we were looking at the university prospectus together and she said, "York is such a nice place and you can take the chance to see tour Europe during your vacations."

But my mummy likes me. I know she does. How can she not like me. I am so nice.

After I get my Masters I might apply for a research post in Antarctica. I like penguins.

so.

On Friday and Saturday, I was out in the Yorkshire wolds fieldwalking. It was part of my course and not as fun as it sounds.

On Friday, was staked out 20X20msq on the field with pole markers then divided these into 5X5msq. Then, each person took one square and the fieldwalking commenced. Basically, you walk up and down your square with your head bent to look at each square inch of the ground and bend down to pick up anything that looks vaguely archaeological. Horrible stuff. 5X5msq after 5X5msq, your neck and back ache and you wish for massage services to be provided in a godforsaken field where the nearest village is 2 hours drive away. The cold and damp are not made better by the gale-force winds. It is much worse than in the city because it is an open space. On Friday, it was rainy and windy. Absolutely miserable.

On Saturday, there was snow for 2 hours then blizzard. James Taylor, who was walking the square next to me, raised his arms and yelled," OH MIGHTY POSEIDON, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?" and went on to pray for a blizzard and two feet of snow. If the snow settled and covered the field, we would be allowed to pack up and go home. When the snow did not settle, James hopped around with his sample bag (zip lock) open, trying to catch a bag of snowflakes to shove in the face of our supervisor so he would realised that we should go home due to blizzard conditions.

I was so exhausted after fieldwalking on Saturday but forced myself to write my essay. Completed it on Sunday and was quite happy.

I also hung out with James and Pedro quite a lot in the past few days because of the seminar preparation. They are full of crap. Work never gets done around these two and the day is filled with laughter and sick jokes about dead babies.

Qn: What's better than 10 babies in one bin?
Ans: 1 baby in 10 bins

Qn: What's the difference between a Ferrari and a bucket full of chopped up baby?
Ans: I don't have a Ferrari in my garage.

Lovely guys.

I have an open exam tomorrow. Trying to study but I can't concentrate. Thank goodness it is not counted towards the final degree. However, I will have to re-take it if I fail. I think I might.

Yesterday was eventful and interesting.

It was raining all afternoon. I cycled to town to meet Pedro Tavares and James Taylor to discuss a seminar for next week. Got there all wet and cold. Pedro was standing under an umbrella by the fountain. James was nowhere in sight. After about 10 unanswered calls to him, we gave up and went to have lunch in a small pub. Pedro has a high opinion of his own weirdness. I think I'm weirder. We were having a sort of competition to see who was weirder. Pretty fun. I think I rather like this fella. He has a filthy mind just like me and we had a nice time talking crap. I like crap.

The seminar we were supposed to be discussing is a role-play type thing where each group adopts a theoretical position e.g.: Contextualism, Marxism, Processualism, and argues why it is best. However, after the last seminar where Edward Williams used a rather inappropriate analogy, the phrase "role play" has acquired kinky connotations in our seminar group.

Edward Williams was trying to use an example to illustrate the idea of locale which refers to a setting and all the rules and behaviours associated with it.
He said, "take for example the different locales of this seminar room and my own room on campus. In my own room, I can take off all my clothes and enjoy myself..."
Of course, we never knew what the second part of this unwisely chosen analogy was because most of us had died laughing. And at the end, of the seminar, he added," I can't wait for the Role Play next week!"

Back to the lunch with Pedro story. He was supposed to bring his Big Papa Smurf costume and James Taylor was supposed to get the French maid one out of the closet. Well... Anyway, We had good conversation about random things which included:

- A housemate whose hobby was setting fir e to the kitchen by turning on all the cooking rings on the hob, placing a switched on toaster upside down on it, turning on the oven underneath the hob and wandering the corridors with slit wrists (perfectly true, the guy is under investigation, facing expulsion).

- The possibility of sacrificing a baby goat in the pub and making pie out of it.

-The founder of the underground society Hate Soc who persuades his girlfriend to wear a balaclava.

- Good stir-fry recipes

We called up Taylor and left a bitchy voice message, then went to get chocolate chip cookies. I was bribed with a piece of Turkish delight so when he "hinted" that I should walk back with him instead of whizzing off on my bike, I was couldn’t refuse. We went walking back in the rain and his bright white trousers got dirty when the muddy front wheel of my bike decided to say hello to them. We were also trying to out swear each other in about 8-10 different languages. He could do Russian, Spanish, German, Portuguese and Imaginary. I did Chinese, Hokkien, German, French and Persian. English was kind of forgotten. Pronunciation was dodgy and there was no way either of us could be sure the other wasn't just using Imaginary language. Fun walk back but my jeans were soaked through.

I got back and had tea in the kitchen with Rory (who was agonising over an essay as usual) before retiring to my room for a short nap.

Then I went to the caving club elections. I was nominated for secretary but fortunately didn't get it because I said in my speech that I thought the other candidate would be better for the job. Also, the others knew I wanted another post. Phew! Secretary is a scary and demanding job. You have to apply for caving permits and insurance and all that. Papers scare me.

I got the Training Officer job. There will be two training officers next year. Myself and Jess. I started a trend when I suggested that we have two instead of just one person for the post. We got named Audress/Jessrey. And after that, people got really enthusiastic about having two people for posts. We ended up with two equipment officers and two webmasters as well. For the Old Fart rep (person in charge of keeping in touch with people who have graduated), we got quite close to voting in two guys, Richard and Andy, just because we would then be able to call them Randy! Luckily, sensible people spoke up and only Richard was voted in.

Got back and had dinner. Then, I went on Skype where one desperate Egyptian guy and a random Turkish paedophile started chatting with me when I accidentally set my status to "Skype Me". Mehdi egged me on to answer the call from the Egyptian desperado and I did. Fed him a load of rubbish then hung up. Yes, I was that bored.

I might be getting a bit of the family insomnia. I couldn't sleep and was writing in my journal until about 5am when I decisively whacked myself on the head with the big mallet.

I sat in a pub for over 3 hours today. How did I end up there? Completely by accidental chance. OK, lets forget about the pub story, start from the beginning of the day. We will get to the pub story eventually.

I woke up for no reason at 7am, thought, "fuck it" and closed my eyes again. Woke up again at 9.30 am, thought, "Screw this" and shut my eyes. Woke up at 10.30 am, thought, " alright, time to get up" and shut my eyes again. Woke up at 11.55am, thought, "Shit! I'm late!"

My essay was due in at King's Manor at 12pm. I leapt out of bed and rang the undergraduate secretary.

"Hello, can I just check what the penalty is for being late?"
"5% deducted off your mark, followed by 1% every subsequent day."
"Oh ok... because I was wondering whether it would be worth it to rush there today since I'm already late anyway"
"Oh that's alright, I'll be here until 2pm, as long as you get it in today, it's fine"
"Really? Thank you! I'll be there in half an hour."

Such a nice department I study in. So I hopped onto my trusty bike and pedalled furiously towards the city. And on the way I passed lots of the other first years on my course heading back towards campus.
Sam Carter remarked as I passed him, " you're a bit late aren't you?
James Taylor yelled after me, " Run! Forrest, Run!"
I almost knocked down James Ross when turning a corner and he chided, " You party too hard!"
(James Ross sits beside me in lectures and enjoys making jokes about how I am a wild party animal who dances the night away because I keep falling asleep in the many boring lectures)
Yes. I got there in the end and handed in my essay without incurring a penalty.

After handing in the infernal thing, my heart was light, the sun was shining and the world was beautiful and good once more. I went shopping at Sainsbury's and bought lots of chocolate. I'm going to die of chocolate soon. May I request: "Death by Chocolate" in my epitaph?

I got back to my flat around 4, had tea (psychedelic Iranian tea kindly supplied by Mehdi and chocolate-covered ginger stem cookies). In the kitchen with me were Anna, Rory, Clare (other blondie in my flat) and her boyfriend). Anna was being really keen and studying for her summer term module in Germany (she's leaving York for good after this term), Rory was writing an essay and Clare was distracting Rory by asking for advice for her French oral exam. It was nice being the only person there untroubled by thoughts of work, for the moment anyway. I fed Rory most of the cookies because he is hungry/greedy all the time. Then I got out the ginger snap biscuits, gave him 10 and told him that was his quota for the afternoon. He is one of those people who don't get fat. Just like Mehdi. Conventional wisdom says that most guys are like that, until they get to their 30s, then they start expanding sideways.

I had nothing better to do so I cycled to the library to return some books. I had a wander round the academic journals section while I was there. An article in a statistics journal tried to dispel widely held belief that left-handed people die younger and one in an electron spectronomy journal discussed the unique properties of i-don't-know-what molecule under a scanning electron microscope.

I got back to the flat around 6pm. And still had nothing better to do. Sat in the kitchen with trying to do some background reading for next week's seminar but wasn't in the right mood for it. Gave Rory some feedback and let him bounce ideas off me for his essay. Then decided to go for caving training because I was really bored.

I got to the Sports Centre to find the five other cavers just leaving. Apparently, they had gotten bored and had decided to go find some food instead. They asked me to join them and I did. We walked to a pub just outside town. (See, I kept my promise of telling you the pub story) I got a lemonade and chocolate cake with ice cream and cream. Luckily, one of the other guys was a teetotaller as well so I didn't feel to weird ordering something wussy like lemonade (don't actually like lemonade at all). The chocolate cake was good though. I thought the plan was just to get some food and leave but they ended up sitting there for hours, drinking pint after pint and reminiscing about caving adventures. Debbie (another fresher girl) and I weren't really able to join in the old farts' conversation but it was pretty interesting hearing about the crazy things the caving club got up to. Fun stuff like driving to Serbia to do a joint expedition with a caving club there. Getting stopped by Bosnian guards with big rifles and twisted ankles caused by being shoved underwater in underground streamways. It is the collective hope of the outgoing committee that the new one will work on recruiting more lunatics.

I walked back to the college with Debbie Flowers and we talked a bit about next year's accommodation. She is getting a house with 5 other people, two of whom are cavers. It is set to be the venue of caving club parties next year. She asked about my arrangements and I told her I would be staying in college residence (more expensive but less hassle. My mummy's call, not mine). She asked, "Aren't there any people you want to live together with?" (Because college accommodation is allocated, not chosen). I replied no. I know some pretty nice people but nobody that I really, really feel I NEED to get a house together with.

You see, If I got a house, I would have to really like every single person in the house or else it would be so uncomfortable. In college rooms, I just have to be able to get along with the others. Of course, I also have the freedom of spending more time with the people I really like. In a house, there would be much less choice because there is too much common living space. But houses around here are rather nice. Maybe in my third year.

In the meantime, I'm content. My flatmates are nice. Hope next year's ones will be good too.

Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you about my phone calls. When it started to snow, I was so excited that I phoned up my sister in New Zealand to tell her all about it. After 3 rings, I realised that because of the 13 hour time difference, it was 5am her side and hurriedly hung up. Opps! I called my mummy in Singapore to tell her. She picked up,"What? It's 12 midnight" And I yelled, "SNOW!" Yes snow, it gets me excited.

Today, I looked out of my window in the afternoon and... SNOW!!! I was so excited! I called Mehdi next door to go out and play in the snow with me but he asked, "Audrey, how old are you?" Fine! Be old! I went out to play in the snow by myself.
(as usual, click on photo to enlarge)
And just outside the block, I met two ducks that had decided to take a nice rest in the pretty snow.


The most spectacular thing was that the lake had frozen over and the snow had settled on it, making it a white lake. It was so beautiful ad cold. You know, I like cold things.


There were three amusing ducks walking in a single file on the ice. Everytime they came to a part where the ice looked thin, the duck in front would test it with its beak before leading the rest onto it.


Then, I went back to my room and a blizzard began. It snowed and snowed until everything was white and fluffy. I was despereate for someone to go play with me. I called Rory and he wasn't in. I called Anna but she didn't pick up. Finally, I had no choice but to try Mehdi again. This time, he agreed!

I wrote my name in HUGE letters in the grass patch under my window. I mean HUGE. While I was during this, Anna popped her head out of her second floor window and starting taking photographs of the crazy, over-excited me. It was so big... Here is a badly stitched photo that will give some idea of just how big it was.


You can see the delicate, artistic process of snowman construction in this photo.


The completed snowman.


I took a picture of a plant that was encrusted by snow.


Ah boy should be familiar with situations like these. Where someone tries to take a picture of me and I flip the bird at them.


Mehdi took a very good photo. It shows our opposite block as seen by a man peering out from behind snow-covered bushes.


As the sun started to set, we looked to the west for a breathtaking view.


Mehdi played it cool against the exquisite backdrop.


Finally, I decided to say goodbye to the fields blanketed by snow and went back inside to warm up.


Nice day, very nice. Good company, good fun. Give me these two things and I can be completely happy. Until I get hungry that is. Then, I'll need good food.

I like snow. Like it very much. But I really hope I won't be forced to cycle in it. If I am, be prepared for news of a bicycle accident.

Today was a very good day. The weather was cold but very sunny.

In the free time I had between lecture and seminar, I wandered around York and tooks nice pictures of my favourite haunts to show you. Click on the pictures to enlarge.

This is the fountain on Parliament Street which is the main street in the city. The sign above the street leading off it says: Newgate Market.


These are the stalls selling fruit and vegetables at Newgate Market.



And here are the Cheese, Fish and Meat stalls.


Museum and Museum Gardens from a particularly romantic perspective.


This is the little path that leads to the ruins of St. Mary's Abbey, just beside York Museum.


This is the view of the city from just outside King's Manor. It is the road right outside Bootham Bar. This is one of the most representative pictures that I have of the city. You can see the city walls, the minster, the bicycles and the road.


This is where I like to sit. High up on the city walls. I don't know why but I just like high places.


And I am the Boss of the Wall.


And the final picture for the day: A boy running after geese, not realising that above him, someone was taking a photo of him.


I hope you enjoyed the tour.

I was just planning my essay and doing some background reading in the kitchen when I happened to glance at my watch and realised that it was 2.30am. Man, my body clock is seriously screwed up. I need to visit a clock shop.

Just read the news that a german cat died of bird flu. We will probably all die a lot sooner than expected. Or maybe if we all start to overdose on vitamins, we will be safe from it.

German cats are out of bounds for the time being. I can handle that. I shall lavish my tender affections upon Persian cats, Siamese cats and imaginary cats instead.

Doggy says think of happier things. Ok.

As I was cycling to King's Manor today (cycling is boring, free time for nonsense thoughts), I had the most brilliant, genius idea ever. What if I tied my camera to the handlebars of the bicycle and filmed a video clip? How cool would that be? York from a bicycle's perspective. Wow! I can almost see myself winning lots of international short film awards. Of course, if a car crashed into me, the film would probably end up in the police evidence room. Or maybe you would all watch it in morbid fascination to experience what I saw just before I got smashed to pulp by a truck. Sweet.

Good idea isn't it? Hands up who wants me to do it. I will cater to popular demand.

Damn. This is developing into insomnia. Sleep is such a waste of time. Maybe I can try not sleeping for the rest of my life. I can sleep all I want when I'm dead. But then again, if I really don't sleep, death will probably come a lot sooner than expected. Ok, let me think of some things to blog about...

We'll start with a joke:

A bear, a lion and a chicken meet.

Bear says: "If I roar in the forests of North America, the entire forest is shivering with fear."

Lion says: "And if I roar on the great plains of Africa, the entire savannah is afraid of me."

Chicken says: "Big deal. I only have to sneeze, and the entire planet wets itself.


Continue with a message:

I'm glad we cleared up the misunderstanding. Your style is to avoid talking about upsetting things. Mine is to thresh things out in the open. What experience I've had in my life so far has taught me that it is better to confront issues (even minor ones) rather than pretend nothing happened. This way, everything can be straightened out before it gets too complicated. I am not sorry I forced you to talk about it even though you said to forget it. Now all is right as rain between us and we can continue to be friends. Isn't this better than pretending nothing happened and letting mistrust accumulate?

Move on to a tongue twister:

Whether the weather be fine
Or whether the weather be not
We'll weather the weather
Whatever the weather
Whether we like it or not.

Then we have a silly nursery song:

I'm sure LL and XY will remember how I loved singing this loudly in crowded places.

Oh the grand duke of York
He had a thousand men
He marched them up to the top of the hill
and he marched them down again

And when they were up they were up
And when they were down they were down
But when they were only halfway up
They were neither up nor down.

Isn't it a strange coincidence that I ended up studying in York?

I'm losing my coherence. Consciousness is slipping away. Sleep might just be possible.

I'll end with a wish:

I wish for lots of nice chocolate.

Good night. It is 4am. Good morning.

Song change! Israeli song. I haven't got a clue what he's on about. Sounds nice though. At least to me it does. I don't really care if you hate it.

Everything except nothing is tainted. Contaminated and Impure. And I'm not just talking about the environment either. Sure, the air these days is impure, so is the water. But so many other things have been polluted as well.

For such a long time, I haven't:

- Seen pure goodness or pure evil
- Found a new friendship unspoilt by pragmatism or other ulterior motives
- Experienced perfect happiness or total sadness
- Felt untainted hatred
- Believed in absolute truth
- Admired flawless beauty
- Encountered unadulterated innocence

Why do you think everything has been corrupted? Can someone pass me a pair of rose-tinted prescription glasses? It would be a nice change to believe in things that are pure and wholly clean once again.

Quote from C.S. Lewis's The Problem of Pain:

"The creatures cause pain by being born, and live by inflicting pain, and in pain they mostly die."

I don't remember much about when I was born but I'm sure my mother does. Don't know much about dying in pain either, I haven't tried it yet. But I do know about living by inflicting pain. I do it to people around me all the time. And people do it to me too. So sorry I hurt you. Are you sorry you hurt me?

Another quote from C.S Lewis, this time from Perelandra:

"You make me grow old faster than I can bear."

Each time I realise something nasty about the world, I lose some more of the innocence that is youth. That is what makes me feel old all the time. Tonight I am older than I was last night. I can hear you say, "Innocence? No, this person and Innocence don't go together. Audrey is filth, filth is Audrey."
My point exactly. I have seen too much filth, corruption and unpleasant realities for innocence to exist inside.

Sir, why did you have to remind me? I was trying so hard to forget and doing so well too. Now the unhappy memories come flooding back. Where is the door that shuts out the nightmares? I can't find it anymore and I seem to have lost the key. You were the one who opened the floodgates. Won't you close them again and build me another door with a shiny new key (not combination lock)?

On Sunday, he accused us of hypocrisy. Five minutes later, he committed the same crime himself. "I'm sorry but we're just not interested." He preached love but his words reeked of indifference. We all know that the opposite of Love is not Hate but Indifference.

Pollution and Contamination. Perfection flawed. Purity spoilt.

I hate this. It doesn't feel good being cynical. Sadly, I'm far from those who can show me prove of pure things.

XY who shows me pure friendship
Jun who shows me pure insanity
Wen who shows me pure trust
Shan Shan who shows me Puritanism
LL and Jason who prove to me pure love (Who was it who said, "You are the love of my life?" I wonder.)
Doggy who shows me pure secretive-ness
My mummy and daddy who show me pure tolerance (of the kids and of each other)
Adela who exhibits pure stupidity of conviction
Hubert who is pure, 100% geek.

Yes I do. Every single day. (not going to use "miss" in case I get accused of you-know-what by you-know-who-you-are)

The mirror behind the closet door shows weirdness. You are the weirdest girl I have ever met. Sorry, but I prefer to use the word "unique". Similar implications (deviation from the norm), but "unique" has more positive connotations.

So there.

Today, while showering, I pondered the unpredictability of life. (bored lah, nothing better to think about) I continued pondering while cycling out to do my shopping.

The thoughts went something like this (you can read if you are as boliao as me):

Not so long ago, I was living my life in Singapore, hoping that I might have a chance to experience life somewhere else.
Now I have gotten used to a different life here in York.

But come to think of it, as recently as a year ago, I could never have predicted or imagined that I would be here, studying Archaeology in York. In fact, this time last year, I was bumming around without a job. Waiting for the A-level results. I also remember going back to AJ to help out with the inter-house drama competition, mentoring, training and directing inexperienced J1s. One of my actors clinched the Best Actor Award.

At that time, I could never have predicted that I would enter the professional theatre world just a month later. Could never have anticipated the debauchery, the hypocrisy and arrogance I would encounter there. Sordidness and sleaze. Do whatever you please. I always knew such people existed but I had never experienced them in such high concentration before. But despite the nastiness, I was thankfully still able to see the good in a few people. The actress who took care of me, the stage manager (to whom I was assistant) who reprimanded the jerk who was behaving inappropriately (slapping my bum backstage, the bastard).

Even then, I could not have expected that I would change my mind and appeal for a different course. Can anybody remember how I was supposed to be doing something like Economics and International Relations? Or was it Politics and Economics? I can't even recall it. Suddenly decided that it would be so boring and picked Archaeology instead.

So here I am. How could I have ever, ever in my previous situation anticipated that I would be sitting in a kitchen, enjoying the company of an Iranian, a German and a Thai, discussing chendol, air pollution and swear words? How would I have known that I would have fun arguments about world politics with a Scotsman over tea? Having grown up in geographically flat, featureless Singapore, I never knew that a sport like caving even existed. And now I enjoy it so much.

Strange thing, Life. Can't ever predict it. So the best way must be to just go with the flow and enjoy it. I will try hard to have no regrets if I die tomorrow. But then again, bear the following story in mind:

---

A man was diagnosed with terminal end-stage cancer. The doctor told him he had at most two months left to live. At first, he got depressed. Then, he decided that he should make the best of his remaining time.

He went up to his boss, called him a Jackass and tendered his resignation.
He kicked his clingy wife and irritating kids out the door.
He sold his house and travelled the world with his money, staying in the best hotels and enjoying the best company money could buy.

On the third week of his last two months, he received a call from the doctor,

"I have fantastic news for you! There was a mix-up at the lab. You don't have cancer. In fact, you are in fantastic health! Isn't this just wonderful news? So sorry for the confusion."

The man ended the call. Walked out into the street and straight into the path of an oncoming truck.

---

Enjoy life my friends. It is unpredictable, true, but that is part of the wonder. Your dreams can come true, so can your nightmares. Therin lies the fun.
Live everyday like it is your last, but only to the extent that you can afford to go on if you wake up alive tomorrow.

Song change! Back to the loud stuff. Turn up the volume and blast your eardrums. Alternatively, turn down the volume and protect your sensitive eardrums, sissy.

I went for one of my late night walks again. Not too late and not too far this time (see post on Jan 30). It was cold and dark. Perfect conditions for a late night walk. Helps me think and untangle troubled strands of thoughts.

I remember how, a long time ago in JC, I wasn't feeling too happy in school. I walked out into the rain and Xinying ran after me and walked with me. Even though I was walking aimlessly and she had no idea what was troubling me. (I can't remember either) Naive though she may be, she truly knows how to be a friend. Can't really remember, but I don't think we were very close at that time. Which makes the fact that she ran after me in the rain all the more surprising and wonderful. I have carved the incident deeply and clearly in my mind so that I will not forget.

To this day, whenever I get upset and need to go walking, I glance behind, hoping to see someone running out to walk with me. I did it just now when I stepped out into the night. So far, there hasn't been anyone.

I have many good friends. Thank you God for them. Can I have some more please?

FEAGLE CALLING MARVIN

Please check email and leave contact number.

Song change! Alamate Soal by Shadmehr Aghili. Weird persian song. You guys have probably guessed that this is the season of quirky music tastes for me. Cross your fingers and hope for a better song next time. I'm very interested to know how many of you enjoy this song as much as I do. I think it sounds very Bollywood. I like the whistling bit. I was whistling it in a cave for the nice echoes.

Two Poems

It is late and I am feeling poetic again. Allow me to indulge in some literary nonsense. I present two poems to you, dear readers. As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are most welcome.

---

Whither Conscience?
for Adela who is sometimes very good and sometimes evil.
(inspired by The Satanic Verses by S. Rushdie and the whole idea of there being external forces that influence human decisions)

Angel
On one shoulder
Devil
On the other

One for guidance
Show me the right path
One for deviance
Fair enough

Go right!
Turn around!
But I will take delight
In standing my ground
Ignoring the sound
Of dissenting voices

Angel inspires
Devil conspires
But they can't keep me
From what my heart desires

Always my will
Never theirs
I never listened
Never did
Never will

And now my shoulders are free
From the weight of their feet
And my ears do not feel
The intense heat
Of the eternal argument

They abandoned me
To seek their own enlightenment

---

Trusting you
for Xinying who trusts and Mehdi who distrusts
(inspired by XY's terrible experience of abused trust and conversations in the kitchen with Mehdi, a new friend)

I like you
I know you
Test me and I'll show you

My uttermost dependability
My childish gullibility

I believe you
I trust you
Though I hardly know you
Test me and I'll show you

My inner vulnerability
My heart's tender fragility

Lie to me
Exploit of me
Take advantage of my stupidity

Are you sorry?
Do you worry?
That you've spoilt my perfect life story?

Crush me
Damage me
Utterly destroy me

I have no intuition
No instinctive self-protection
To stop me being harmed
By your horrific predation
I should have been alarmed

Why was I so dumb?

(XY, I specially wrote this poem with rhymes so that you can memorise and recite it to yourself when dealing with new people)

Goose, Geese

On Friday night, I tried to bug Anna, the german girl, to watch a musical with me (our flatmate was performing). But sadly, she had a migraine. I tried to bug Rory, but he was broke. Luckily, I managed to bug Mehdi, to go with me.

The musical was quite good, considering that all the people working on it were busy, busy students. It was a comedy not unlike Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. This one loves that one, that one loves the other one. And in the end, everyone pairs up with somebody. That kind. It was quite good entertainment for £5.

On the way back, we were cycling past the fields and the sky was completely clear and the stars were all out. This meant that it was very cold because of the lack of cloud cover. I was trying to hao4 lian4 and pointing out Orion's belt and the winter triangle to Mehdi, forgetting that I only had one hand on the bike. And I almost killed this flock of geese that were wandering the fields. I cycled past them shouting, "Goose! Goose! Goose!" And Mehdi said, "No, it should be 'geese'." I replied, "I was only talking to one of them."

I went caving yesterday. Such a tiring cave. We were in there for 9 hours and came out completely knackered. It was a grade 4/5 cave, 5 being the hardest grade. There were some fantastic formations in there though. It was cold when we emerged. One of the guys, Adrian Turner (same guy who took the minibus photo) had brought his down feather jacket to lend to me because he knew from experience that I'm always very cold after caving. Such a nice fellow who owns a goose. The jacket is so full of feathers that we call it a goose. He was driving that trip and turned up the car heater to maximum on my request. It was like a desert in the car. So hot that halfway back, he stopped the car to strip down to a t-shirt before continuing. In the end, it was simply too hot and the rest of the people were sweltering so the heat got turned down. Maybe I should pack warmer clothes next time. I mostly don't bring enough warm stuff because I don't like having to take the big bag along.

Right now, my dear little rascal of a sister in New Zealand. That is even further away from me than Australia. Far, far south. Yesterday, I attended a seminar by a Peter Gathercole, fellow of Darwin College Cambridge. A fantastic lecturer and expert on NZ Maori archaeology. He was going on about these cool tattooed heads that they have in the museums. Yes, real human heads that are tattooed and were separated from their owners and preserved. Since my sister is a naughty girl, she will probably be kidnapped and turned into a tattooed head. Don't worry, Mei, I will visit your head in the museum :)

See what a nice sister I am.

The Iranian guy sent me a link to this video yesterday. Russian blondes. Man... check it out . Those who know me well will understand why I suffered nosebleed. Have I finally found a person with the exact same taste as me?

A fantastically funny picture taken by my good grandkid, Tan Yi Jun. Shows you the reason why women should never take their husbands and kids out shopping. Go Here

Song Change! Somethin' Stupid by Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman.
A sappy-sod love song for the two sappy, soppy girls who went shopping for boyfriends' presents together. (I'm too far away for you two to kill me. Phew...)

Valentine's day has always held special significance for me. It is a wonderful day to tease people about their love lives. Hee Hee :) This time was no different. One of my flatmates was experiencing a valentine's card-induced dilemma. The Iranian, the Cypriot and I were giving "good advice". It would be wrong for me to go on about it so I will stop.

Love and relationships are unnecessary complications in life. Nothing signifies this truth more than the £2.50 Single Belgian Roses that were selling like hotcakes in the city streets today. Why would anyone pay that much for a single, dead flower? Poor flowers, killed and sold at exorbitant prices so that people can pretend that they love each other very much. So much that they would be willingly robbed in broad daylight by unscrupulous florists. I feel so, so sorry for the flowers. What did their tragic deaths achieve?

It is better, I think, not to fall in love. Or if you do, just take some good medicine to cure the disease. But I know that you sappy people just can't resist the temptation. I have heard rumours of two people (you know who you are), going shopping together for Valentine's Day presents for their respective love interests. Did you really? Tell me all about your celebrations. I am curious and a big Kaypo.

The Catholic Chaplain sent out an email that included these words of comfort:

"If today you haven’t received a card expressing the undying love of your favourite person. Just remember, the one whom you are looking for is looking for you!"

I know who is looking for me. The CIA, the Interpol and the International Tribunal of Human Rights. Honestly, it really wasn't me!

And I have already found my favourite person. Right there in the mirror. Me. I appreciate the fact that I don't ask me to buy flowers for myself. I like how I don't ask me out on dates at inconvenient times. It is good that I don't distract me from my studies (well, only occasionally).

Hey, you there! Come back. Don’t run away! I was only joking. Really!

The essay is done and handed in. I think what I handed in was not an essay but a piece of crap. But we shall see... sometimes, the markers like crap.

I will concentrate on pulling myself back away from the edge of insanity.

Relax... relax...Take it easy.

And, PREPARE FOR SEMINAR TOMORROW!
Yes, it is a hard life and it never stops. If it ever does, you will know that you're dead. That is how it is. Living is hard work. Dying is so easy by comparison. Too easy.

Dear Friends,

I am trying to write an essay that is driving me insane. By that, I mean far more insane than usual. It is terrible and hard. Makes me feel stupid. Don't like feeling stupid. Like being smart.

Is it true that eating avocados makes you more susceptible to insanity? Somebody help me, please.

Tomorrow, I will hand in the essay and this will all be over. Until the next one comes along in two weeks time...

Imaginary voice: "Naughty Audrey! Stop blogging and get back to your work right now!"

Me: "Ok"

Ah... Adela has recommended another crazy video. Memoirs of a Geisha--Mad TV Enjoy!

I was checkingthe ISP tracker for this blog. I found that there were entries to this blog from a french site, so I clicked on it to see what sort of page it was. And... !!!!!!! http://cubembom.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_cubembom_archive.html Don't go if you don't want to be mistaken for a pervert. But knowing the people who read this blog, I guess you will all be curious and go there anyway.

What do you make of it? Personally, I blame the random "next blog" button on the top right hand corner.

Surreal...

The most fantastic thing happened today. A guy came to the flat and fixed the hot water boiler! Maybe I should explain. For the past few weeks, the hot water in my flat has been wonky. The tap gives you not more than 5 minutes of hot water before it turns into a Siberian Ice Spring in deep winter. I've been taking really quick showers. People who know my shower habits will be gasping in awe and wonder at how I can possibly shower in under 5 minutes. After all, I am the one who is famous for taking hour-long showers. Well, now that the hot water is back to normal, I can go back to doing that.

I've been reading these academic texts, trying to research my essay (due on Monday). My new ambition is to be an academic scholar and write lots and lots of books just like the ones that I've been reading. Books that don't make sense. Books that pretend to be in English when they are actually written in Jargon-ish. Paragraphs that, once you struggle past the jargon, don't say anything worthwhile.



This History and Theory of Archaeology course gives me new ideas to ponder every lecture and seminar. Too many ideas and theories. They are messing up my poor brain. Soon, there will be nothing left in my head but a bloody mess.

I don't like the feeling of not knowing everything. I don't like to feel stupid. Actually, I don't like to feel less smart than anyone. I have to be the smartest ass, the brightest student, a rising star. I have to feel that I should be giving lectures to lecturers and be paid to do so. Yes, I agree that the psychology of me is weird and disturbing.

But you know, maybe if I believe, believe, believe that I am the most intelligent, well-read, charismatic person in the whole entire world, it will be true. Positive thinking, Audrey. Audrey is better than everybody else because she is intelligent, works hard and simply has a superior mind. Come to think of it, who needs positive thinking anyway? I don't. Not when I'm already THE BEST. (see, it worked!)

All of you should think like this too. Together, we will become the top brains of the world. Of course, I will always be far better than you.

This is a cool video. Watch a Bollywood man and a Cow display their best karate moves!
Click Here .

My sister has found this blog! Congratulations. Now, she can read all the nasty things I've written about her.
By the way, mei, this song is dedicated to you. Ice Cream Man by Tom Waits. haha. An inside joke. I hope Jun finds this less depressing. I personally think it's depressingly sappy. I'll leave it on for just a little while...

My sister is an angel-faced devil.

So sweet...


How lovely..

But behind the pretty face, are the most horrifying thoughts.

I am a devil-faced angel.

Aggressive...


Scary...

But all I want to do is to make you smile.

Teasing Baba about her pink tudong (see tag board) and all the while I've been walking around in one. Just kidding! It's a blue scarf that I wear only when I have to go out at night. Why? Three reasons.
1. No one can see it in the dark
2. Head gets cold.
3. Hat is too warm (only for cycling)

And those are my three reasons for wearing a blue tudong at night!

My mummy would go berserk if she knew I like to walk around with a head scarf. She is religious-ist and thinks that wearing headscarves makes people look like suicide bombers who will be shot on sight by members of the secret police who run a nationwide clandestine monitoring programme for foreigners who put cloths on their heads.

The Iranian just gave me a bag of 8 clementines (small oranges). Wow! He got them very cheaply and is apparently going around distributing them to all his friends. I'm happy. It is still the chinese new year festival and I choose to see it as a sign of good luck to recieve 8 oranges. And this guy has absolutely no clue about the significance of oranges or of the number 8. That makes it even better luck. Well, I am ethnically Chinese. And Chinese are perhaps THE most superstitious race in modern times.

My life is study, study and more study. Ah... sweet life.

I had a geeky arguement (ok, more like debate. but "arguement" sounds more exciting) with Rory just now. We were yakking over whether or not people in jail are part of society. My stand was yes. He thought no. We just couldn't agree. And at last I asked the crucial question, "Why are we arguing about this?" He said," Dunno, just felt like it."

The Iranian guy tried to show me an equation that starts with Time=Money and concludes by "proving" that Women=Problems. I'd seen this psuedo-equation before in emails that my spammer auntie sends me. I re-wrote the equation to "prove" that Man= lots of problems and stupidity. Then I dismantled the equation by exposing the false and inaccurate assuptions in it. Such as, Money=square root of Problems. And then I asked him that since he believed Women wasted time, money and caused problems, if he prefered Men instead. He said I was a dangerous person and laughed. Come to think of it, he didn't actually say no...

I love this guy. He reminds me so so much of the lovable Azeena. He even looks horrified and asks me to stop when I swear. Even when I was just reading to him from a storybook (The Satanic Verses). How can you not like such a person? It's been so long since I had somebody to shock and scandalise with my foul-mouthed speech. I didn't realise how much I missed that look of utter scandal and horror on lovely Azeena's face when I used to say "Fuck" for no other reason than to shock her. And of course, the Puritan ah boy provides me with such entertainment too. I suppose I am perverse in this way. But it's like the forbidden fruit. The more you are not allowed to have something, the more you want it. Which is why both the Iranian guy and I are so interested and curious about The Satanic Verses. Because it is banned in both our countries. I think it was some Iranian religious leader who first started banning it. Yes, forbidden fruit tastes best.

Song Change! California Dreamin' by The Mamas and the Papas. Less agressive.

I find that it a constant struggle to stay on the sane side of the fence. During weekdays, work keeps my mind occupied and my body busy. But during weekends, I permit myself to rest and the ungrateful mind likes to dwell on depressing subjects. Feet betray me and lead me astray. Honestly, when I stepped out of my door at around 10.15pm just now, I only meant to get some fresh air. But I started walking and kept on walking through the cold, damp night. I walked all the way into the city centre and back. Returned around midnight. It wasn't a smart thing to do and I'm really surprised I'm unhurt. I didn't have my handphone with me so it's just as well that I didn't get kidnapped. I would have been unable to call someone to ransom me.

At mass today, the priest asked how many of us would like to get married or saw it as a possibility. Almost the whole room put up their hands. I didn't. It was a strange moment in which I realised that I was either extremely cynical or extremely different. I have to get used to being alone. Just in case I carry on being alive for many more years as family and friends either expire or get busy with their own lives. Young people like me should be banned. We are not good for demographics.

I am always cautious about calling people friends too soon after I meet them. There are friends, and there are acquaintances. Differentiate between people with whom you get along and exchange pleasantries and those who you really like and care about. One of my flatmates said that everyone just cares about themselves really. How sad if it were true. I had begun to believe that I could start to think of a few people as friends. Sheesh... why should I bother about what one cynical flatmate thinks? Better to believe in friendship. At least until I am proved wrong.

Studying and reading in the kitchen for prolonged periods has it's unexpected perks. I have spoken more to my flatmates in the past week than I had the whole of last term. Especially Anna, Rory and Mehdi. It has been nice getting to know them better. You all know how I am with new people. Not very good at all. I just have to be allowed time to get familiar with people before I feel comfortable enough to have proper conversations with them. I'm getting there. It helps that they are interesting people with lots of stories to tell me. Stories of different countries, cultures and, of course, food.

Chinese New Year is coming soon. I wish I was back home. I can't tell you how tempted I was to purchase an air ticket to fly back just for the CNY weekend. It was about £420 for a return trip. I clicked on the "confirm booking" button and almost, almost clicked on the "confirm payment" button after keying in my card details. But good sense took over my melancholic fingers and made them click on "cancel transaction" instead. My mother would have killed me if I had wasted £420 to fly back for one and a half days. Well...

I had a sudden bimbotic urge to paint my nails to match my red coat today. So I did. I've painted them red with blue edges. Red like my coat, blue like my hairband. Now I'm colour-coordinated, albeit in badly matched colours. It must be the stress and the archaeological theories messing up my mind and common sense.

Too bad there is no one to save me. And I'm not even sure I want to be saved from insanity. Reativism, dear friends. What seems mad to you, is perfectly normal and natural to me.

I don't think there will be issues with this lovely photo. But just in case, it was taken by Adrian Turner and I do not claim any rights on it.

We were on the way to a cave. While waiting for the rigging team, we decided to climb onto the roof of the minibus and enjoy the view of the Dales and nice sunshine. Kevin, that's the guy on the far left with the longish black hair, was doing giant Sudoku puzzles.

Note: Pictures of flatmates have been removed due to privacy issues and fear of being killed by aforementioned flatmates if they find out about the web publication of aforementioned pictures.

Nice reaction to my photo post. Jun seems to be leaning towards a Puritan point of view. She thinks people look better with more clothes. Next time, I'll take a picture of me in caving gear. I'm sure she will find it irresistably kinky. By the way, I've decided to put up the kinky photo again. Since you all like it so much. Xinying, go see.

Song change! Very aggressive stuff. In German. Check out Rammstein here

Hello Friends.
This week I've been studying far too hard and torturing myself for no reason at all. I sit in the kitchen every night reading academic texts. And I can sit there for hours and just study and study, forgetting all about dinner. The shortest session this week was three hours. The longest was five hours, from 7pm to 12am. I don't know why I do this to myself. I honestly need to get a life.

The night before, the boiler in out flat broke down. There was no hot water the whole of yesterday and today. They've only just fixed it an hour ago. When I turned on the tap and it was hot, I felt like singing and dancing and proclaiming the good news. When there was no hot water, I boiled water in the kettle and poured it in the sink and used a cup to scoop the water for my "shower". Just like I did when I was a little kid.

I was having fun with the camera today, I decided to put my pathological hatred of being photographed aside and took some photos of myself. In case you don't know, photos of me are really hard to come by. So these are rare gems. All those of you whose hearts are torn apart by my absence and can't sleep at night because you miss me so much, feel free to add these photos to your collection. Hee hee.

On the other hand, psycho maniacs should be warned that I have absolutely no problem stabbing you, strangling you, raping your dead body and dumping it on the railway tracks. I may appear rather sweet and nice but that is only because the pictures don't show neither the illegally acquired surgical scalpel set hidden under the bed nor the quivering wreck of a blond rugby player chained up under the bathroom sink.


Me and my characteristic smirk. You can see a bit of my bookshelf in the background.



A very artistic shot. Light reflects off my deathly pale skin. It's so artistic it doesn't even look like me. You can't find photography of this quality just anywhere you know.

He did it again. (refer to previous post)

He told me he was baking tomatoes in the oven. Then, he got out the oven tray and I saw that it was french fries. Man...

My flatmate the redhead (that's the half brit-half swiss guy), has an intriguing strategy where girls are concerned. He invites them to our kitchen and cooks a nice meal for them. Last week was one girl, this week it's another girl and next week is yet another "lucky lady" according to him. He says he only fancies the last one and the others are just very good friends. Man, this is so interesting. I never knew guys did this sort of "way to the heart through the stomach" thing. I can't help being amused. We shall see if his strategy works well.

The Iranian guy has recently developed a habit of telling me the strangest things.
1. Last week he told me that the reddish sauce he was cooking with was made of boiled potatoes. I was really intrigued and puzzled. How do you get boiled potatoes to go so red? Do you add food colouring to it? Then, he was confused and said no, you just boil the potatoes. Then I asked, " erm, do you mean TOMATOES?" Yes, he did.

2. He asked if I knew the biggest planet in the solar system.

Me: Yes. That's Jupiter

Iranian: No. It's Mars.

Me: What? It's obviously Jupiter, the gas giant.

Iranian: That's the one with the rings around it yes?

Me: No. That's Saturn. Seriously, Jupiter is the biggest planet. Earth is the third planet from the sun, Mars is the fourth. But Mars is definitely not the biggest planet.

Iranian: (looks like he is thinking really hard for a while) Oh. I think you are right. I was taking about Mars but Mars is not the biggest planet.

And the funniest thing is that what he wanted to tell me in the first place was that the head of the team in NASA in charge of the recent project that brought back soil samples from Mars was an Iranian. And was had to go through a whole discussion on the relative size of planets to get to the point.

Honestly, I don't know if the problem lies with him or me. Like when I say "American Psycho' He hears " Merica Cycle" Do I blame the Singaporean accent or the Iranian one? But communication problems notwithstanding, I quite enjoy talking to him because he tells me just the weirdest things out of the blue. Reminds me a little of Azeena in AJ a long time ago.

Yesterday, one of my colleagues in French class remarked that I spoke with an American accent. Weird...

But it is things like this that keep me amused.

I found a wonderful button for bored people to press.

Go here!

Many people are having exams here. Not me though. I wish I did. Perhaps I wouldn't be so bored then.

I was walking around campus when I heard one girl say to another:

"You know those multiple choice question? I mean, each question has four options. It's not one question anymore. It's four! And if you have sixty questions, that is... erm... that is, like, two hundred and forty questions altogether! It's riddiculous!"

It was so surreal. I can't imagine an easier form of exam than multiple choice. Even if you don't study, you still stand a chance of passing in an MCQ exam. Especially if you are lucky that day.

I changed the song again. This one fits my mood better. Enjoy.

Jun thinks that saying that I miss people is gay. Alright, tell you what. How about this? I miss everybody but Jun. Haha.

I'm bored to death.

I went to the city today and bought some food and a book. Then I came back, cooked some rendang, ate it with rice.

Three of my flatmates are having exams this week. Lucky me. I don't even start lectures until next week. But this leaves me with utterly nothing to do except stay in my room and read.

Over lunch, I talked with my Iranian flatmate about being bored. He said that if he had a laptop with internet connection in his room, he would never be bored but work all day. With my laptop, I have been Skyping people, blogging and erm, Neopets. It appears that more than one person needs to get a life. Oh, and did I mention that my Cypriot flatmate woke up early today (monday) to study for an exam on wednesday?

I've been alone in my room too much.
I sit at the door beside the radiator, switch off all the lights and stare into the artificial darkness. And think.

I think too much.
As I stare into the dark, I think about how there is no absolute, enduring truth. Only relative.

Perspective in space:
My right hand is on the right of my left hand. But if you were standing opposite me, my right hand would be on the left of my left hand.

Perspective in time:
I tell the truth when I say the cup is on the table. But the cup is only on the table now. It was in the sink 5 minutes ago and in another 5 minutes, it will be in my hand. So was I lying when I said, "the cup is on the table"?

Thoughts like this pave the road to the loony bin.

Never doubt the fact that I truly believed when I said the cup was on the table.
Please believe me when I say my right hand is on the right of my left hand.

I should have access to professional help.

All day, I chatted with Jun, then Ah Boy on Skype. What a wonderful thing Skype is. I'm worried that I might have talked too long about nothing to Ah Boy. She now thinks I like girls. Do I? I don't think so. It's all a terrible misunderstanding. Tell her, LL.

I've had absolutely nothing to do for the past 2 days except taking my TB medicine and sleeping. TB is almost cured by the way.

I miss people. :( What a strange thing for me to say.

The winter sky here is so grey. There is no colour. The palour is everywhere. Even grass seems less green. This is what leads to depression in the winter. Suicide rates will go up. But no, I won't be one of them. I've decided to live to see the people I have left behind yet again.

What a long long journey it was. It lasted close to 24 hours including waiting time. The que at the UK customs was so long. They were questioning everyone really thoroughly. Luckily I didn't have any problems re-entering the country. One Malaysian girl wasn't let in. Scary.

It was 8.30 pm by the time I arrived in York. By the time I made to to my room, it was about 9 pm. I was so tired, I ate biscuits and fell asleep. Lucky I didn;t fall asleep while eating biscuits or I might have choked.

I want to go home! Looks like this is going to happen everytime I leave Singapore to come here. I'm not the only one. Ah boy is homesick in Aussieland too. Only way to make it better is to keep busy and call up people at home.

My poor Geranium is almost dead. My flatmate sort of drowned it. I squeezed out all the water. I hope it will survive to see spring.

Once again I am blogging at KL International Airport. I've been waiting here for 2 hours. only one more to go. I had a fantastic time the past 3 weeks in Singapore. Food... and family and Family and friends. I had so much fun that I didn't blog at all since blogs are for pathetic people to whine about their pathetic lives and I had nothing to whine about. Except for the TB-like cougth. But that didn't bother me much. I'm still coughing but it should get better when I arrive in York due to drier and cleaner air.

Once again, everybody is scattered all over the world. Ah boy and Boon are already in Aussieland and Jun will be joining them next month. My sister is going to New Zealand next month too. I hope she becomes Kiwi-fied.

My lugguage is half books and half food. I hope the food sauces don't burst their packs and destroy the books. Or else, the University library will begin to smell like Rendang and Koka Instant Noodles.

Hello everyone! This is the second post courtesy for KL International airport. I've ben stuck here for more than 3 hours. I'm so shag tired. 12 hour flight plus 3.5 hour wait is not funny at all. The damned flight to Singaproe got delayed by half an hour. I wish someone like LL or Jun was here to play the tudong game with me!

I tried to find some food because I'm so hungry but everything is overpriced and unappetising, just like airport food should be. The food on the plane from Manchester was so bad. The cod fish was like a block of wood pulp moulded together with water and potato starch. Oh help, I'm dying of starvation. I am so going to stuff myself when I get to Singapore.

There is this TV screen here at the airport sitting place (not classy enough to deserve the title of "lounge") that is playing an amatuerish video of Malay dancers over and over and OVER again. These dancers supposedly perform here on thursdays. The rest of the time, this horribly annoying video is repeated again and again and AGAIN. ARGHHHH!!!! I think I know all the dance steps already.

My flatmate emailed me this bizzare webpage with pictures that show evidence of the intelligence of the Human race.
http://www.cnyas.com/tork.htm
It seems that I am not the only bored person around.

I woke up in the middle of the night. I was cold, my bones were aching and my throat was swollen. And I knew. Damned fever. I struggled 3 feet to my medicine shelf and grabbed 2 Panadol tablets. Felt like hell.

I hope I get better very quickly. If not, it will be a nighmarish hell pain in the ass travelling back to Singapore on Sunday.

Right now, I am trying to study for the exam on thursday. I feel so cold. I am a dead thing that has to sit on the floor beside the radiator, compulsively drinking hot tea to keep from freezing. Panadol eases the aching bones a little but it is very hard to concentrate on the theory of how civilisations develop from the availability of agricultural surplus when pretty little stars are bouncing and skipping across my eyes.

My diagnosis is throat infection. My resting pulse rate is 73/min. Usually it is 60/min so I'm definitely sick. It is not my imagination. I prescribe saltwater gargle for the sore throat, Panadol for the fever and body ache, vitamins for the immune system and willpower to aid recovery. God help me.

Song Change! Back to the Christmas playlist. This one is nice. An alternative to the usual.

Over the weekend, I went to a place called Castleton for the caving club christmas meal. The meal was nice and I ate a lot. We stayed over at this old chapel that had mould on the walls.

We slept in sleeping mats on bunk beds. The beds weren't separated, just a big mattress and sleeping bags next to each other. So, at about 3am, I was too tired to stay downstairs with the crazy people doing silly things like body traversing (climbing over and under a person without touching the floor. needs a good strong person who is trustworthy enough to hold you), broom game (twisting yourself around a broom while keeping both hands on it) etc. I crawled into my sleeping bag fully clothed. There was a guy already in bed and I said good night. At about 4, another guy climbed up to the bunk. I was half asleep when he started stripping. Shit! and I shut my eyes. Audrey don't look! No, no. Don't be a pervert. Erm, I saw some bare skin... In the morning, we were sleepy eyed. I offered the naked guy some water (don't worry, the bottom half of him was in the sleeping bag). I realised that the other guy was naked too (bottom half also in sleeping bag). Wow! I spent the night with two guys who slept naked. How interesting. Oh the missed photo opportunities!

In less than a week I will be getting my ass on a train and a plane back to Singapore. Excited! I want food Food FOOD! Not that I haven't been eating a lot here. I just miss the sheer variety. I especially miss sushi and sashimi. I think I won't be able to resist popping into the Sakae Sushi at the airport the moment I get kicked off the plane.

I had a nice and most wonderful 19th birthday today. Thank you to all me friends and Family who made it so. Early in the morning, my brother emailed me a Flash game he had written as a present. It involved controlling a mouse, making it eat cheese and avoid the cat. So I started the day totally amused. Then, my mummy sent me £, which I like.

I went to King's Manor and from there, set out on a walk around the city cum seminar presentation with my seminar group. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the view was fantastic. After the seminar was over, I went with two of the guys in my group to grab food before the afternoon lecture. I don't really know them very well but when I mentioned that it was my birthday, the two of them burst out into a birthday song, right outside the City Art Gallery. I ran to a bus stop to hide. Then, one of them walked into Starbucks and bought me a slice of chocolate cake! So nice right? (sounds soppy, but it really wasn't) Then, two of us got sandwiches and one guy got a coffee and we wandered around the city, waiting for the lecture to start. We walked into a bookshop where one guy bought a book on Vikings, the other got one on Anglo-Saxons and I got one on Vlad the Impaler. And we hung around some more, talking cock and learning swear words. I taught them Pi Gu (backside) and Qu si (go and die) and the Singaporean meaning of Cuckoo Bird.

Then we walked back to King's Manor. It was still to early for lecture so we sat around in the common room. Out of the blue, Ah Boy called from Australia! Such a nice ah boy. We had a conversation full of swear words which was fun. At the end, the two guys overheard me saying "Qu Si" and they just started yelling "Pi Gu! Pi Gu!". Good fun!

As I sat down in the lecture room and got out my foolscap paper, LL called. Unfortunately, the lecturer was starting so I had to cancel. LL said she would call tomorrow. (To LL: I lecture from 8.30pm - 10.30pm your time. half an hour before that, I will be cycling. If you call between (5-7.30 pm or anytime after the lecture, I should be able to answer, unless I'm showering or in the toilet) I'm looking forward to talking to LL the Lame.

When I got back to my college, I found in the letterbox a birthday card from Grace the Doggy! A CAT card! And Grace can draw cats! Impressed and very happy.

And hanging from my room door was a plastic bag with a card and cupcake with a candle on it from my beautiful blondie flatmate! Oh, talk about warm, fuzzy feelings...

At 7.30pm, I went to the Sports Centre for caving training. I decided to do a fast birthday challenge and bugger off because it had been such a long day. I got through the 100+m rope in 18mins. Not as easy as it sounds because it is vertical and involves some rope burn but it was a good workout.

I walked back to my room in some of the most fantastically thick fog I had yet experienced here. I had to be careful not to get lost although it was only a short distance. I found my Iranian flatmate in the kitchen and we cooked dinner together. (well, mine was some horrible looking scrambled eggs which tasted alright and his was proper rice and fish). We had dinner and talked rubbish and I learnt to say "my name is" in Persian. Sounds something like "Esm-e-Mann Audrey". Then, I got out the cupcake from the blondie and we pretended that there was a flame on the candle (no smokers and thus no lighters. stoves are electric). I made a good birthday wish, blew out the candle in my imagination and ate the cake.

And on the blogs of Jun and Wen are poems dedicated to me!!! I feel so important :) Thank you Boon for your "whacking intent" and Jun(e) for your eccentric rhymes! I like them both even though they are very different.

On XY's blog, in BIG RED WORDS, she wishes me "Happy Birthday". Thank You!

So nice to know that the important people in my life have my birthday marked out on their calendars and that there is unexpected nice-ness to be found in people everywhere.

Wonderful day. I have lived to be 19. Thank you friends and family and Family and God who provided them. A nice warm and fuzzy feeling as I become sleepy. Good night.

And now, I unleash upon you the Christmas songs! This one is by Kenny Rogers. Yes, the guy who opened the chain of chicken restaurants. Enjoy! I will be changing the songs quite often to stop you going crazy. Christmas songs are just everywhere.

The blondie just said I look older than my age. She said that I look about 21. I can't help liking her.

Hidden Life.
for Grace (dog) who likes to do interesting things and not tell people.

Delighted to meet you
Ever happy,
Never sad.
A cheerful surface,
Never scratched.

Delightful farce
Of a dull life.
Intriguing truth
Of the exciting night.

When eyes glance away,
And attentions stray,
It is time for
The dog to display
Canine nature
Descendent of Wolf
The Wild heart
None can prove.

I had my first real accident on the bike on Thursday. It was going to happen sooner or later, the way I cycle. Reckless. Luckily, injuries were minor, if they can be called injuries at all. Anyway, this is how it happened:

I was turning into a cycling lane, cutting across a road. Suddenly, a car appeared from the left. So I turned left to look at it. Oh look, a car! Then I looked in front of me. Oh fuck, a fence! It was too late to turn by then so, CRASH! And the left side of my face was whacked against the fence and I fell off the bike. A random guy walked by and pretended he hadn't seen a thing. Surprisingly, I was still in one piece. Of course, I felt like I had been boxed in the ear. A few dots of blood from broken skin and a dazed feeling. And I also have a humongous bruise on my right thigh.

I got up, checked the bike for damage and continued on my way to King's Manor to give a seminar presentation. And nobody here need ever find out about my stupid accident.

Yesterday, I went for a full day first aid course. I am now a qualified first aider (British Red Cross). So if any is bleeding or dying, I'll practise the 3 Ps. Panic, Piss Off and Pretend nothing happened. Just kidding! I'll be happy to give you CPR anytime. You just have to ask.

Christmas is constantly on my mind now. Soon, I'll be changing the song to one of those christmas songs that irritate the hell out of everyone in shopping centres.

Before Fog
for Boon, who is sometimes lost.

Out here in the wilderness
A thousand paths
Dirt
Brick
Stone
That disappear where the Sun sets.

There is no one
Behind.
or
Before.
or
Beside.

You were never taught,
Never told
That it would be so
Frightening.

It is not right
That you feel so alone
When you are surrounded by
So many.

Where will you find your
Conviction?
Who will be your
Rock?
When every stone you find
Crumbles to dust in your hands.

When the fog descends
You will be utterly lost.

Quick! Now!
Before dampness touches your cheek
Light your flickering torch

Let every step be forward
And never look back.

(Boon requested this poem. The inspiration for the setting is from the thick fog in York. Going out alone at night really gives you a sense of alone-ness cos not only is vision blurred but sound too is muffled. And of course, since she requested it, a large part of the inspiration comes from Boon.)

I found Singapore Laksa Sauce in Marks & Spencers today. It had a 3 chilli hotness rating. I bought it anyway. Spaghetti looks a lot like laksa noodle when it's covered completely with the sauce. And it tasted authentic. Laksa leaf and everything. But the hotness... Does everybody know the taste of McDonald's pepper? Yes, exactly. No shiok feeling at all. Not even for me, the famous lousy chilli eater. Man, there wasn't even a single dot of chilli oil floating on top even though the ingredients list clearly said "chilli". Yes, laugh all you want. I was happy enough that it tasted like laksa at all. Food does taste bland here when you compare it to Singaporean stuff . It isn't so much the chilli but the spices. Most Singaporean dishes use about a million different herbs and spices. And everything gets marinated for years and years. Here, the furthest they go is salt, pepper and ketchup or brown sauce or vinegar. Life has no Spice.

I've had a whole day free today and decided not to go out but stay in my room. And staying in the room all alone for prolonged periods of time breeds the poetic urge so here're a few pieces of literary genius by the Master. Each poem is dedicated to a special person. If you would like a poem dedicated to you, feel free to make a request and I will see what I can do.

Lamenting the Cracked Cup
for Xinying, who understands the small tragedies of life.

When Hot
meets Cold
and mixes,
results are often
Unexpected.
The cup with
the picture of a kitten.
Cracks from top to
bottom.

(This poem was inspired by the real life event of my nice cup with the kitten cracking because the hot tap was too hot and the cold tap was too cold.)

Of Men, Women and Marriage
for Tan Yi Jun.

A wise woman told her grand-daughter,
Women can be independent of Men.
Do wise men tell their grand-sons,
That Men can be independent of Women?

What is Marriage,
If not an arrangement of
Inter-dependence?

And young girls and boys
Make plans for the future
That will prove futile
For sure

Marriage is never far from the mind of the girl with
Motherly instincts
And the boy who knows he is a
Family man

And for the Men and Women who resolve to be
Single
Will life be a journey made alone?
Or will Resolve be
Crushed by a
DAMN SEXY MAN OR WOMAN
who intrudes upon the solo heart?

(Inspired by numerous conversations with various friends on the subject of marriage. note to ah boy: "DAMN" here is used as a literary device, not a swear word.)

Cycling Cold
for Tan Liling, who likes rhyming poems

The road stretches before me
The weather will not be good
That's what they said on BBC
Must I cycle? I should.

At first if feels like rain
Falling on my shoulders
Then I feel the pain
Snow in eyes like boulders.

The incline is not steep
It seems like a gentle slope
So up the slope I slowly creep
As my legs struggle to cope

And when I reached my destination
I am frozen and soaked through
Enter class and a French examination
That I am obliged to do.

(Inspired by the true events of Monday night when I cycled to French class at night when it was snowing. The french exam is true too.)

I tried to cook rice and ended up with one week's worth of porridge for breakfast lunch and dinner. I will try again once I finish the porridge.

It snowed today. I was having a lecture at King's Manor on the second floor. The window was behind the lecturer. When it started to snow, everyone just stared happily outside the window and the lecturer thought that we were suddenly all very interested in what he had to say about Cultural Resource Management. But sadly, it was too warm for it to remain snow on the ground so there were just puddles of water where there should have been snow. We were very disappointed.

I had a fun time cycling back though. Imagine little bits of ice smacking your face as you cycle uphill whilst trying not to breath so as not to fog up your glasses and be rendered effectively blind. And the howling blizzard wind threatens to blow you into the path of a truck. I felt like a cycling icicle. Have I mentioned how big trucks seem to appear from nowhere behind you on the coldest, wettest days and how car drivers seem to think it is necessary to be reckless on such days?

Sad times for Jun and Wen. My condolences. And a big hug that reaches across land and sea, from Britain to Singapore.

Song Change! Enjoy a classic. Ballet Music From Rosamunde

I woke up today in a fantastic mood. What a NICE, HAPPY day! I made some hot tea with milk. Cooked some pasta with carrots. Taste so good. I'm just very happy for no apparent reason.

I had an interesting chat with the ever-amusing Azeena on MSN. Tried to sell her on my Iranian neighbour again. She seemed a lot keener this time. We talked about strange stuff like revealing clothes in Bollywood films and what sort of girls are attractive. I think she is really repressed.

Chatted with Ah Boy too. She hates it when I swear. Fuck. Opps! Damn. Opps! Shit. Opps! Gosh?

I also made Christmas plans with my sister. Planned the menu, decor and theme. She thinks my mummy is not in good shape to handle the preparations so we will have to do it.. Fantastic. The theme for house decorations this year is angels and stars. We have conceptualised a classy look. Foodwise, it is going to be pretty. The turkey will have those frilly paper things attached to the legs. Garnishes will be used liberally. It is going to be a busy kitchen on 24th December. Exciting. Here's an idea of the menu:

Starters/soups/salads:

- Hors d'Oeuvres. Pretty little things. Sweet ones: fruit topping. Savoury ones: smoked salmon/caviar topping
- Prawn bisque
- Waldorf salad
- Caesar salad
- Prawn cocktail

Sides:

- Escargots
- Mussels
- Tinned oysters
- Smoked salmon
- Boiled quails' eggs
- Grilled potatoes
- Satay

Sauces/dips:

- Pesto
- Traditional tomato-based pasta sauce
- Salmon mouse

Main courses:

- Turkey with herb stuffing
- Baked pork chops with rosemary. Garnished with herbs and caramelised onions
- Chicken risotto with avocado slices
- Fish casserole
- Baked crab
- Olive rice

Desserts:

- Chocolate fondue
- Apple crumble with vanilla ice cream
- Berry crumble with hot custard sauce
- Trifle with berries
- Cheesecake

Drinks:

- Chocolate milkshake (frothy and low in fat!)
- Red wine
- Bailey's Irish cream
- Water!
- Assorted soft drinks

Junk food:

- Potato chips
- Assorted chocolates


Doesn't it sound exciting? I will be the master chef, of course. I have taken over Christmas dinner since last year. I'm raising standards. It is going to be a crazy kitchen this year. I will have to work hard to keep things in control and to keep track of the time. Planning planning planning. I will have to make sure food gets served hot and cold stuff gets served cold. And so many of the items have to be prepared from scratch. Things like the prawn bisque (peal prawns, flambé prawns, boil stock, etc) stuffed turkey that has to be defrosted the night before. All the main courses as well as the Hors d'Oeuvres, salads, trifle, crumbles, baked potatoes, quail eggs and sauces have to be prepared for scratch. I don't like to use too much ready-made stuff. Laziness does not produce gourmet Christmas dinners. Yeah baby!

Winter has descended upon York. The green fields are now sprinkled with frost. Sprinkled? Blanketed, more like.

It is completely foggy outside now. I can't see the grass on the ground from my window on the second floor.

On Sunday morning, I was on my way back from Mass. Being sleepy-eyed and in "Holy Bible" mode, I thought I was witnessing the miracle of walking on water being performed by gulls. Then I whacked myself on the head and realised that what appeared to be a miracle was just most of the lake being frozen.

I bought the nice leather gloves. Keeps my hands at just the right temperature. I also bought furry blue socks for sleeping in. They look really funny. And I bought ker-nee high black socks to prevent calf cramps. Yes, a socks shopping spree.

Oh yes. On Saturday, I had a cold but had to go out to buy groceries. I cycled there and bought my stuff. Then, I discovered that the stuff I had bought wouldn't fit into my backpack. So, intelligently, I packed the remaining stuff into two plastic bags and hung one on each handlebar of the bicycle. The thing with having a free-swinging weights on each handlebar is that they keep swinging. In different directions. And there are these things Physics students study known as Momentum and Force. So, I was on the road and every time there was the slightest bend in the road... WHEE!!! I was honked at by so many cars and I can't remember how many times I almost died on that cold Saturday afternoon while cycling like a drunkard with a bad cold.

I think I'm falling in love.

The frost is so pretty
Oh the cold. The Cold. The COLD, COLD COLD

To Boon & Jun: I hope your grandmother is ok. Two of you, please take care.

Hello readers! I've had a really relaxed week. One of the lecturers was on medical leave so there was only one lecture and one seminar this week. I've been doing a lot of reading to make myself smart and knowledgeable although I'm already very much so. My first essay has been marked and I got a good grade. My only mistake was a citation mistake but that was only because I didn't know how to cite a source that was a lecture according to the Harvard style of referencing. The evaluations for my seminar presentations so far have also been quite good. It would appear that I'm not as useless at Archaeology as I first thought. We shall see how it goes.

Scottish salmon has been on the menu all week. I bake it in the oven with pesto sauce and it's super delicious.

It's getting very cold now (below zero at night) and it is going to get colder. According to someone who has a farming background, you can tell that it's going to be a cold winter if there are a lot of berries on the holly bushes. The bushes are absolutely covered with berries! The squirrels have also been hoarding nuts like nobody's business. It's going to be a cold, cold winter.

When it gets too cold, I will probably camp in the kitchen beside the oven. For now, camping beside the radiator in my room stops me dying from hypothermia.

I was checking out gloves on thursday. The sports gloves looked nice but they were too bulky. I saw this black leather pair that was tempting but really expensive. Maybe I will buy them as a birthday present for me.

My Cypriot flatmate was cooking a really interesting soup in the kitchen. A porridgey concoction made from wheat, barley and cheese. She gave me some cheese to try and it tasted like mozzarella but saltier and had mint leaves in it. I've never seen a soup like that before.

My Iranian flatmate was telling me about how one of the Electronics lecturers had brought a prototype head-controlled wheelchair for a demonstration in class. Tilt head back to go backwards, lean forward to go forward, look left to turn left etc. And I asked, " What if the person in the wheelchair wanted to look left while turning right?"

I am writing another essay. Terribly things, essays. Being the chronic procrastinator that I have always been, I decided to explore hiding places in my small room when I was supposed to be writing the essay. I made the great discovery that I can fit comfortably in the wardrobe, close the door and sit down in the comfortable darkness that smells of clean clothes. I also went to the kitchen in search of distraction and found the Iranian fella cooking his lunch and randomly discussed imaginary numbers in electronics and the use of cement to make casts of the carbonised bodies in Pompeii. I also checked out the weather forecast which says that night temperatures might go as low as 0 over the next few days. And then, I came here to write this post.

Procrastination is essential to the production of good work because good work can only be done last minute due to the need for deadline pressure to stimulate brain cells and encourage concentration. Long live last-minute work!

Oooh... fun things.
On Saturday, people over here celebrated Bonfire Night. For those who don't know what it is, google "Guy Fawkes".

I went caving again. This time, it was a much bigger and dryer cave. We changed outside a church and one girl wondered if it would be wrong to show her bum to the church. Then, we descended into the cave using a rope. I was dangling on the rope over a deep, dark hole in the ground (about 12m) when my hair got caught in the rack (metal friction device attached to rope). The people already at the bottom tied a knife to the end of the rope but by the time I managed to get the knife up, most of the stuck hair had already torn off. Adrian, the guy who helped with my hair, is apparently considering a career in hairdressing now. One of the guys lent me a balaclava later and thus saved me from becoming increasingly bald.

We crawled through miles of muddy tunnels and descended another 30m (no hair problems) to arrive at a huge chamber that contained a fabulous waterfall. The chamber was as big as York Minster and the waterfall was huge. Google "Gaping Gill". Beautiful, beautiful water. Splashy splashy.

When we finally emerged from the cave, it was already dark. Because we were in the Dales, it was also foggy. I though we were still in the cave and stupidly asked one of the fellas how the plants managed to survive in a dark cave.

On the drive back, there were blazing bonfires and spectacular fireworks on both sides of the road. Imagine driving along a dark road flanked by pyrotechnic displays. Pretty Pretty.

On Monday, I decided to go jogging to think about stuff and kill time. It looked sunny so I went in t-shirt and shorts. I wasn't too bad while I was jogging but when I came back, I realised that my skin was almost frozen. Imagine me red from jogging but frozen from wind. One thing I really appreciate is that you don't get sweaty and drippy like in Singapore. Very comfortable jogging, except for the frozen after-jog.

Yesterday night, I went to a cake and pudding party at a caver's house. Cake for dinner was good. Then they started playing silly games like twister and stuff. There was one particular game that showed everybody what a freak of nature I was. It involved picking a cardboard box up with the teeth with both feet on the ground, hands and knees off. Every round, the cardboard box was reduced in height until it was a just a piece of cardboard on the floor. Then, books were introduced and you had to put your front foot on the books as you bent down to pick up the cardboard. You know me, I have short legs and I'm dead flexible. So, I was just stretching a little and bending a little to get the cardboard, wondering why everyone else couldn't do it. And everybody thought it just wasn't natural. When I reached my limit, they actually got out a tape measure and announced that the pile was 7 inches (17cm) high. I was asked to join the circus along with a few of the guys who were also pretty good. I was very amused.