Here are some photos from my short trip up to Cameron Highlands, Malaysia.

From our hotel apartment’s balcony, we had a breathtaking view of the terraced hills/mountains. I managed to get my 81 yr old grandfather and 70 yr old grandmother to take a photo together. Which was a miracle since they mostly appear to hate each other.



The hotel had lots of nice flowers all around. Most notable were the red roses.



We visited a cactus farm that had over 200 varieties of cacti.









The farm also had lots of flowers.









Then, we visited one of the many strawberry farms that Cameron Highlands is famous for. The plants were grown using the hydroponics method.



And we visited this terraced farm where things were still being done the traditional way. This was the last tourist attraction that we visited before leaving.

I'll be going away to York again in less than a week. I shall miss the food. I was talking to my mummy about plans to pig out this week. And she said that I'm already round-round. Well, I can't help it! Everyone is having their exams. So whenever I manage to get people to come out with me, it's always for a meal. So I get fat. It's only logical.

Among the things that I will be bringing to York is a stir-fry pan with a steamer. My mummy bought it for me, anodised steel ok? Don't play-play ah...

And I will also be bringing the sexy hard drive that my father bought for me. In this country, we buy electronic goods like nobody's business. Or is it just my family?

I have a few more dates to keep. On Thursday night, I will have dinner with LL and my ger, XY (haha). And then XY will have to go home because her application for an all night out permit was rejected, case closed. Hopefully, Jun will be able to join me and LL for stargazing if it is not cloudy, or talking cock if it is. And then we will watch the sunrise at east coast the following morning. It should be fun. I hope everyone can make it. Then, on Saturday morning, I will meet Sinny (Sihan) at MacRitchie Reservoir and we will take the nice long 10km+ treetop walk.

Another thing I will miss very much: running around in t-shirt, berms and sandals. That's the only good thing about the heat here.

I just received an email from the archaeology department asking for interested people to go on a fieldwalking project in Greece during the summer vacation. I replied an expressed an interest. Hope I get to go. Get to meet funky Greek people and learn some Greek.

Jun asked me out to take photos in Orchard Rd tonight. I told her I already had a date with my girl so I had to call her to ask first. Predictably, Jun said, "EEEWWW..."
My two newest "things" are taking lots of photos of stuff and calling XY my Girl. (Darling, you touched?) haha say EEEEWWWW and say GAY...

The other day, my father bought me a sexy new toy. Yes, please read it carefully. It's :Sexy New Toy. Not: New Sex Toy. (alright, I will stop being dirty minded for a while) Anyway, it's a sleek and blue portable hard drive. LL had an amazing business idea when we were talking about the porn movies she had on her laptop. Provide a porn download service in campus halls. Put word out in the halls that porn is available. Paste a sign: BYOTD on your door. Bring Your Own Thumb Drive. It will be so fantastic if I do that when I go away to York again. Imagine a sudden outbreak of Korean Porn movies among York Uni students that can be traced all the way back to LL's laptop. Gosh! Surely, fame and notoriety beckon.

Life might be hotting up again and I don't mean the weather (thank God). I'm going to Cameron Highlands, Malaysia with my grandparents (father's side) on Thursday night. I'm being held responsible for them and will have to bring them around strawberry farms. The recent thunderstorms worry me though. You know how during the rainy season we always get lots of news about tourists dying when their tour coaches get buried in mudslides? I hope that doesn't happen. I'm fine with dying but I don't think everyone would be very happy if my grandparents died too. The bitchy relatives would look around for someone to blame and my parents would take the fall. Families are troublesome. You can't really die in peace knowing that your whole extended family is going to be bitchy and pushing blame around for your death.

I'm looking out the window and I can see that another thunderstorm is on the way. I can smell the rain.

Home all day with only this laptop to entertain me. Grace gave me a ticket to insanity. Actually, more than one ticket.

The Crimson Room

The Wicked Levels

Really Weird Shit

Enjoy madness. Pull your hair out and smack your computer.

Last night, LL, Doggy, Jun and I met up for dinner. Belle joined us afterwards and we went to the NUS campus to visit Belle's and LL's rooms. LL showed us porn on her laptop. She is Sick man! Jun was very disturbed by the graphic Korean pornography. I wasn't surprised because I know LL well. You see, it's like this: I'm the vulgar one who spews bad language everywhere I go. I'm quite filthy-minded but nowhere as bad as LL. Jun is not vulgar and only a little dirty-minded compared to LL. LL is not vulgar but has the filthiest mind ever. She can find sexual connotations in every sentence you utter. And of course, she likes porn. haha weird shit man... As for Grace, well, she is the one who sent LL the porn movie. So, even though she sits there quietly with her big Harry Potter eyes, we must not be deluded into thinking that her mind is squeaky clean. And Belle just sits there, completely absorbed in the movie.
Ahhhhh... poor puritanical Shan, she must love us a lot.

I got back late last night. And this morning I had to start trying to wake up at 6am (waking up takes time ok!). Finally succeeded at 6.30am. Made it out of the house in time to reach the airport at 8.30am to send off Jun. She is coming back again soon! Yeah!

To all those who don't know:

Madam Jun has proven her architectural talent by winning an apprenticeship with some big shot Japanese architect working in Singapore. Don't play play! Ah ma is proud of Jun. She will design The Family Home when the time comes.

I had a nice lunch at an Indian restaurant with my parents. Everything was yummy. But I was almost assassinated by the hot-ness of the fish head curry.

Song Change. Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coulton.

"I'm so into you
But I'm way too smart for you"

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.)