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Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tomorrow's the last day of my midyears, 2 papers, CALCULATING subjects which I dread. Anyway, SHAWN WON DANCING WITH THE STARS! HAHAHA. Yeah, so her win deserves a line on my blog. All she needs to do now is GET BACK INTO THE GYM. NO HURRY, SHAWN. NO HURRY AT ALL. Anyway, someone posted this oWilde interview somewhere on LJ, and, HAHAHA, so LOLtastic. "What is your definition of "hotness," and just how hot are you? "Hot" has become a euphemism for all things positive, making it generally acceptable to use to describe everything from a jalapeņo to a drum solo. It's sort of a useful word. We don't have to think of appropriate adjectives for people, places, performances, tacos, or objects anymore as they all fit snugly under the glorious umbrella of "hotness." So I don't know how hot I am but I'm honored to be considered as warmer than the average taco."
Hee, fit snugly under the glorius umbrella of 'hotness' and 'honoured to be considered warmer than the average taco'. The next question/answer was even better. What do you make of the modifier "drool-worthy"? My bulldog drools constantly so I'm not sure that term is too exciting. Interview can be found at:
http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2009-05-19/femme-fatale/ Go read it. It's funny. [Edit]
1. Damn you, economy, and damn you, CBS. Why do you keep taking away my favourite female cops? First, Kelly Hu runs off to do another show, now you DO THIS TO EMMANUELLE VAUGIER? MY QUEBECOISE? WHY? It's like Maxim Roy on ReGenesis again. Hmph. DO NOT LIKE. You could've done better with doing it to Adam instead. More fans would be devastated, but at least you don't have stuttery lab assistant and you'd have panas cop. Which reminds me, no Emmanuelle Vaugier in Maxim this year? >.> 2. I didn't know Emmanuelle Vaugier had a wrist tattoo.
3. Anna Belknap! <3
4. Hill Harper! <3
5. Gary Sinise! <3
6. MELINA KANAKAREDES! <3
7. ROBERT JOY! <3
8. This is what I call season-ending.
9. Oh, pok. 50-cal Desert Eagle. <3
10. Fierce, Flack. Fierce. I didn't know you had it in you.
11. I hate you, cliffhanger. IT'S LIKE SEASON 2 OF REGENESIS AGAIN. I TELL YOU. IF ANNA BELKNAP OR MELINA KANAKAREDES DOESN'T COME BACK NEXT SEASON, I'LL KILL SOMEONE. SERIOUSLY. GENDER BIAS, MUCH?
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I should TOTALLY be studying, but...
WHY?
WHY MUST THE WATCHMEN BOOKS BE SO EXPENSIVE?
WHY MUST WATCHMEN:PORTRAITS COST MYR170?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY MUST THAT JUSTINE BIOGRAPHY ALSO COST MORE THAN MYR100?
At least The Audacity of Hope has dropped in price. And at least I have ONE book to read when my sis comes back. She got me Scarpetta. Yay, her. Except for the bit where she wrote 'Scarletta' instead of 'Scarpetta'. Hee. Non-fan.
HOMG, MPH has 'Little Girls in Pretty Boxes'. But, ONCE AGAIN, IT'S FLIPPING EXPENSIVE. Oh, they have a Shannon Miller book too. I recall Yih Shan mentioning seeing the Nadia Comaneci book.
I will never be able to afford books in this country. ):
When can I go down to Singapore for book shopping?
I think my NS letter came today.
Hidden confession!
There's this slip with my name on it saying that I have a registered mail waiting for me.
The reason why I volunteered for MADU wasn't really because of my uni apps.
Maybe it's a US uni prospectus.
Well, partly, it is.
Nah, just kidding. The Princeton and DOE letters were through regular mail, not registered post.
But it was mainly because of Justine.
Oh, and Kar Mun called to ask if I got my letter yet.
I don't know how Justine got into the mix, but I think it was her the convinced myself.
IN CONCLUSION, MY NS LETTER IS HERE.
Or rather, I convinced myself and rationalized that it was Justine.
I WONDER WHICH CAMP I'VE BEEN DUMPED TO? THE STUPID WEBSITE GIVES ME THE STUPID 'CONGRATULATIONS!!111!!YOUGOTPICKEDFORNS!!11!AWESOMESAUCEONTHEAWESOMECAKE!!11" message.
Hrm.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Instead of studying, I'm reading a SQUASH forum.
Sigh.
I miss my game. I wish I had time to play it.
NEVERMIND. 2 WEEK HOLIDAY COMING UP. I CAN CATCH UP WITH LOST TIME.
Drove to Glenmarie and the Subang Airport today. Was Min Shen-ing some turns (ie. Not really braking enough at turns) in the beginning, and Dad made me jam the brakes ("So that you know what it's supposed to be like")(I'm surprised it's kinda *slow*. Didn't expect brake-jamming to be like that). If my sister had an issue of being TOO SLOW when she drove, my issue is being a bit TOO FAST. Heehee. I know, it's not something to laugh about. I know, I know. NEVERMIND. 2 WEEK HOLIDAY COMING UP. I WILL POLISH MY DRIVING SKILLS TO ~*PERFECTION*~.
Now back to squash. Seriously, people. When I go to uni, I'm going to play squash there. I'll buy myself a racket there if I can't bring mine along (Sis brought her badminton racket with her. I should be able to bring my squash racket too! :D), and PLAY SQUASH. If I go to Australia I'll play for my college. If I go to US I'll play for my college. If I go to the US I want to try out for an NCAA TEAM. HAHAHAHA CRAZY. I CAN'T EVEN GET INTO THE MSSS SEMI'S, I WANT TO TRY OUT FOR NCAA. HAHAHA. AIYAH, CAN LAH. TRY FOR TEAM EVENT LAH. I'M ASIAN. I'M MALAYSIAN. THE WORLD NUMBER 1 WOMEN'S PLAYER IS FROM MY TURF. IT IS A CHIA IMPERATIVE TO BE ABLE TO PLAY RACKET GAMES.
Sorry. Trying to chill from all the studying. Maths... T_T
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Something interesting to read
So I was in the library yesterday, since I stay back in the library to do some reading/studying every Friday. I was sitting beside my classmate, and he had been reading a couple of magazines (Well, when Emily and I sat beside him he was kinda... asleep. LOL), and he told me that "this one is a really weird one, you might want to read it" It was a magazine called Adbusters, and flipping through it, it was a kind of magazine I've NEVER, EVER read before. Not fashion/gossip/whatever, but it had a sort of... satirical view on politics and economy and stuff like that, but it's weightier than I'm making it sound right now. There was this really interesting article on Kevin Rudd, and the sheer action of reading about Rudd's apologies to the Australian Aborigines, the Stolen Generation, made the hairs on the back of my hand stand... But that's just me, and things like that get to me. Either that, or it was because the library's air-cond was blowing right at me and I was kinda lazy to move away/the library was kinda full. Anyway, there was this essay which, at first, cemented Wei Shen's comment of "Weirdest magazine I've ever read" in my mind. After flipping through the magazine, I went back to read the essay again, because, though weird, it was really well-written, and one can only dream of writing like that. And I'm kinda on an inspiration-hunt for essay writing styles for applying to US universities. But onward to the story. Before I begin the essay, I'd like to say that Adbusters IS kinda weird, but it makes a lot of sense, and it's a really interesting magazine. You should check out the website (I've linked it, hee), or look for it in your college's library. Also, there are some things I may or may not agree about with what is put in the magazine, but, like everything else in life, there's interesting things, and there are really boring ones as well. --------------------------------------------------------------- Hi Editor,This piece I wrote for a friend who died a very violent death this summer. I'm a youth worker for a film and video mentoring project in the Downtown Eastside, and the coordinator of the Purple Thistle Centre.This piece is very close to my heart. A little long - 1300 words - but I think it's right up your alley. I would ask that you exercise your emotional sensitivity when editing it. I'd like to think that it falls under the 'spiritual mindbomb' category. It's about imperialism, culture, youth, school and institutions, and the psychogeography of colonized lands.My work has previously been published in Adbusters anonymously in the issue edited by Dr Matt Hern.Thanks for your time.Devon.************************************ Today my dear friend hanged himself. His life was violence. All he ever wanted was love.I am looking at his Myspace profile, wondering how long it will take for the news to finally trickle through the gravel irrigation to his Internet friends.I sleep late dreaming of a city half under an ocean of smoky gray quartz. In this dream city I am always taking trains, always to see my sisters.The neighbourhoods in the dream city are like mould, each sustained in itself but part of a larger colony. The streets are dusty, crawling with people and rich smells of nutmeg and clove, dirt, salt, ocean, sex, tomato plants and motor oil. Everyone is a bit surly because everyone is poor. But everyone helps each other because that's how we live. When I don't take trains between spores I do parkour with friends, and fight cops or other gangs.You are there a lot, jumping around with that crazy fire that is all and only yours.I was born in Chilliwack on the floodplain at the 'heart' of the valley in the wake of Coqualeetza. Even as a child, I understood that a devastating thing had happened here long before my birth."That TB hospital/Friendship Centre used to be a kid prison-torture chamber, sweetie""Well honey, all the brown people in town live on the reserves with no shoes and the dog gangs because our elders were racist family-destroying fucks""Grandpa made his living from scalps, baby""Ours is a stolen land and rotted peoples""It is our heritage, our legacy to you"My father told me a story about doing mescaline on a beach in Greece. He said god was a Dog and a huge Black Woman.She told him space-time was like playing dominos. It's a mescaline story, but I believe it. I see people set up for the knockdown all the time.God has always come to me as strange animals. As inordinately big spiders, a thousand tiny crabs, birds I've never seen before, brilliant and intimidating little kids.I dream of my elementary school and wearing a fairytale princess dress. The school has started medicating me, and I have to go to the office to get my pills. One day I cut through the gym on my way there. Out of the locker rooms (in which I was assaulted as a child by an angry old teacher) comes a stick-like and twitching old woman like the spindly remains of a crow on a roadway. With her is a huge, hulking GreenMan, half rotted and laughing.She speaks in bloodsplatters and deathrattles and her cohort rapes me on the elementary school stage. When he is done, I am still in my dress. CrowLady's talons extend like fishhooks and she rips open my guts. Spills me out cold on the floor. I remember her voice and the ebb of my bloodtide out into the world, like a balloon slowly popping.She visited me again a few years later, living with a crystal meth dealer in a punk house on a mouldy twin mattress with my convict lover. She met me in a Shale gray storm on a rocky pinnacle covered in grass in the middle of a floodplain. We fucked, her dressed as a she-wolf who coos to me about rotting and my organs and the memory of the Land. She pulled a mass of dirt and woodbugs and centipedes and bits of rusted metal and hard shredded white plastic out of my cunt, all mixed with blood that she wiped on my face and chest."My legacy to you"I walked the streets and I see La Llorona screaming for her children of the floodplain, jealously drowning the sons and daughters that are left standing after School. Ghost people help La Malinche translate her once red words into white smoke through a plastic and glass tube, inspecting the sidewalk for what has fallen between the cracks. Tezcatlipolca is rigging the ports, bouncing death through smoke and mirrors, a network of reserved spaces and underground opium tunnels confiscated by cops. Metal birds of the Morrigan feast on the heads of those washed at the Ford oil sands, the hipsters wear old headdresses. The mouths of our brightest crammed with Zoloft and Ritalin and alcohol from the hand of the All Father.Oin did not age well. Impotence and imperial bloodlust have turned Santa Claus into Saturn again. We devour all our children in his name.You are gone. You left because you were tired and I know what from. I witnessed your love and pain. I honour and remember your struggle.I'm sorry they treated you that way.I wish you all the love you ever wanted.***END ESSAY*** (Taken from: Adbusters Magazine, January/February 2009, #81, Vol 17 No 1)
Thursday, May 14, 2009
In the midst of a crazy schedule, I just remembered.
One year ago, on this date, Justine Henin retired from tennis.
):
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
It's been so long since we had a maid, and now that we have one... I don't know what's going to happen?
Anyway, Tan Sri Razali Ismail talk is on NEXT TUESDAY! 19 May, 10am - 11am at LT2, be there at 930am. Taylor's College Main Campus. Come if you're free, dresscode is FORMAL! There's NO entry fee charge, and he's going to give a talk about Global Teamwork. Now here's a not-so-confusing rehash of the details
Event: Talk by Tan Sri Razali Ismail
About: Global Teamwork
Venue: Lecture Theatre 2, Taylor's College Main Campus
Time: 10am - 11am (Be there before 10am, doors open at 930)
Dress Code: Formal
I think I might go, too! After all, ESL paper only starts at 1130am. It's just the question of dressing up in FORMAL CLOTHES for the paper.
Apparently there's going to be media there and all. Exams suck. The one time I can seriously be involved with my club, I have EXAMS. Psssssshhhhhhhhh...
Monday, May 11, 2009
Quoted directly from the Bit of Fry and Laurie 'Australian Soap Opera' sketch... "I have a confession to make" (Say it with an Aussie accent) ... Once you read this, it's no longer a secret. I absolutely wasted my time watching Twilight (Though, as I said several posts ago, it was fun with the girls), but I actually like the soundtrack. I mean, who doesn't like Paramore? And pianos? I cannot discriminate a composer because of the movie he's composing. Take, for example, the fact that I love whatever Hans Zimmer or Howard Shore composes, whatever other movies they compose music for that are NOT Gladiator or Black Hawk Down or Lord of the Rings and all. I will now distract you from what I have just said with a picture of Alicia Sacramone.  And this .gif of Shawn Johnson's bars dismount. I need a .gif of Nastia's bars pirrouettes. Seriously.  Credit to whoever made this, on LJ.
Friday, May 08, 2009
WHO KNEW THAT PICKING 4 TOPICS FOR A MODEL UNITED NATIONS CONFERENCE WOULD BE THIS HARD?
I do.
LOL.
I'm supposed to find 4 topics from G20 OR The International Court of Justice (ICJ)
Economics, or Law. Economics, or Law.
Trying to find some good ICJ topics, because we already have ECOSOC. I have something to do with piracy in mind, since it's so rampant nowadays... but what should the topic be? Argh.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
- Investigative Study essay handed in. I have this feeling I did a really crap job with it. But the UN is so technical, it's kinda hard to have a questionnaire.
- Ei-Lynn provides a lot of laughs. Her Restaurant City avatar does, too
- Emily and I make a good team. Yeah, Elmo?
- Was in the library with Harvind (Bim), Michelle and Emily the other day - was talking to Emily about *cough* gymnastics (Well, ShawnJohn IS on DWTS) and then we were surfing the net and then came the exclamation, "DAMN, LOOK AT THOSE ABS" Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Gymnasts have 6 packs. =.=
- Bio practical assessment tomorrow. TSA/V. You should know what that is. Unless you're a bio dropper. Tee hee. Going to drop blocks of jelly into acid... Mmmm...
- Handling the TAYMUN booth with a bunch of other people are fun. Renee reminds me of Sue Mae. Except that Sue Mae's perkier. Jia Sheen is ever the bimbo, and it's quite amusing seeing Wei Wen stress out about hangers.
- Handling the TAYMUN booth also provides me an opportunity to meet various personalities of the college. Take, for example, an ICPU guy who was trying to guess who was in A-Levels, and who was in SAM. "SAM students always look so stressed, and A Levelers are the general population" was his reasoning
- Wei Shen (Tan. Yes, I have another Tan Wei Shen in my class. He's from Brunei) tried making his Restaurant City avatar look like a Twatlight vampire. Hee. I told him to try getting redder lips. xD
- I was going to fall asleep during Moral today, so I compromised by blabbering with the Moral lecturer. Morality and ethics and philosophy and whether the bombing Hiroshima/Nagasaki was right, and talking about Hitler and the Holocaust.
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