because i am just a little boy

i just realised, looking at the essays i got back this week and thinking about my teachers' comments to me, that i topped three of my four courses so far this year. and ms. barnes gave me the highest mark she had ever awarded.

hm! this is muchly pleasing, since i spent just four days on the three essays, even more so since one of the girls in my class, no/uria, upon hearing that the highest mark in the course was 76%, tried to get ms. hoar.eau to announce publicly her mark, evidently expecting to be the top-scorer, only to have ms. hoareau tell her to look for her after class, and proceed to congratulate me for topping the course.

that's the same girl who, at our last lesson discussing public goods, loudly and proudly asked why anyone would ever pay on the bendy buses in london where drivers can't catch you for not tapping your oyster card.

(is there anything to be so proud of in that?! someone please enlighten me.)

i'm getting back the fourth essay this week, but given that it was done under such reluctance, it probably isn't going to be any good.

it's good to have something pleasant to muse about after an afternoon of overwrought emotion and negotiation.

i decided on a whim today to get the bus back instead of the tube, and since it was my first time taking the bus back from school i kept an eye out for where i was to alight. it went well, and i'd pressed the bell to get off, when suddenly this guy in front starts flirting with this woman beside him, and i get so amused and engrossed that i forget to get off even when the bus stops.

man: (on the phone) "oh man i'm on the bus, i don't know where this is, even the lady beside me doesn't know—(to woman)you don't know where we are now, do you?—just tell me where to meet you. … oh whatever, mate. catch you another time."

man: to woman "by the way, you're really sexy, aren't you? where are you goin'?"

the woman spoke so softly i couldn't hear, but waved her hand slightly and giggled soundlessly.

man: "you've got a busy life haven't you? well, wherever you're goin', i'm goin' exactly the same place!"

some embarrassed chortling and fluttering of hands.

man: (whispers inaudibly to her, and both laugh) "but you really are a sexy one there, eh?"

i intended to read on the way, but the dim corner where i sat and the rhythmic putter of the engine put me to sleep. so i gave up. i just looked at the notes i was attempting to take in a half-asleep state, and one line reads, "democratisation has not only removed targets of hate, but also rival contenders to power of state (no feudal armies etc.), while centralin tsiggif". well, we know where i dozed off. i have no clue whatsoever what i was trying to write at that time, and i'm trying to find some way to fit "centralin tsiggif" into my essay.

i know p. will appreciate this, because it's a video clip talking about how good technology is and how we should appreciate it. well, granted the guy (Louis CK) bends a few principles of logic, but his basic premises still holds—that we're way too pampered now.

had the most excellent conversation today with w. that spanned all of nine hours, from three in the afternoon to just about an hour ago in front of holborn tube station. some things are so nostalgic, all the way from secondary school days. so we've gone full circle and come back to the same position we were in nine years ago; not too bad. company, and what you're doing, can be so important. hurray for lit. (:

i got elected as the president of the linguistics society today, so hurray for me too, although i missed the japan society's agm (pfft), but well, a nice afternoon and evening does wonders for one's mood. one doesn't seem to care too much about things, since they just seem to keep on rolling, and roll on they do.



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edit/ i got elected as the secretary of the hellenic society too, so hurray!

how many other people have this irritating habit, where you hear an inside joke you're not part of, but understand why and how it's funny anyway, because of all the clues and implications in the joke itself?

i can't kick it. all i can do is to pretend i don't understand.

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student comedy night tonight was way better than the one last year, where aspiring stand-ups competed to be accepted into the formal line-up. that was nasty—one mad woman made her own vajayjay blow-up out of carpets and cloth and made painful come-ons to any and every penis in the audience. tonight at least i got to know two names—matt cushen and paul sinha—whom i will probably search out on youtube, thereby depriving them of a living and driving them off the stand-up comedy scene.

oh woe, woe, woe, etc.

...

unfortunately "matt cushen" didn't turn up any results on google, but look at paul sinha! listen to this:

"Sinha was educated at Dulwich College and St George's, University of London where he was so popular they asked him to stay for an extra year."

wtf, mate! so essentially the principal called him into the office and told him he's being retained for a year because he's too funny. :O

which actually he was. ( he was recounting this anecdote ... )

i'm actually terribly bushed and i could collapse any moment from sheer fatigue, but there's a sharp pain in my abdomen that makes me wonder if i haven't swallowed a knife. fuck everybody who spreads their illnesses to me ARGH.

so, am i asking for too much by hankering after the cultural unity of cosmopolitan places like britain or hong kong while being grateful for the diversity to which singapore has exposed me and from which i have derived great benefit?

there was an annoying insect flying round my room, so i went to the kitchen, poured a glass of orange juice and put it on my table. sure enough, ten seconds later the pesky thing flew straight into the glass and drowned.

capitalism works for us in such small but wonderful ways.

"The next station is - King's Cross St. Pancras. Change for the Victoria, Northern, Hammersmith & City, Metropolitan and circle lines, and national and international rail services."

Having a travelcard saves so much money, and is so convenient. Unlimited travel on the tube and buses, hurray!

On the tube today stood next to a group of middle-aged businessmen. The announcement came over the speakers, "This is the Piccadilly line service to Cockfosters." And suddenly grown men in suits and ties became little girls in frilly ponytails.

"Cockfosters! Ha, innit great?"

Well, grow up, uncle...

it was also rather amusing to see a huge dog, bigger than me and longer than i am tall, freak out at the sight of the tube escalator going down.

so i've lost my earphones and a job offer, as well as one night's sleep and a lot of time. in return i have one nice new spanking language that, if i may say, sounds very nice.

now, what to call it?

here's a sample. it's a recording of a ceremonial dialogue. http://www.qdrive.net/home/fileinfo.php?id=48393

so i’m back in london again, and sitting 9 hours after touchdown in my pjs in rosebery hall where i’m temporarily staying, it feels different. none of the excitement and the anticipation, more of the been-there-done-that; except, of course, that i haven’t really been there and done that. i haven’t even looked for a house on my own before in singapore, and here i am plunged into it in london. without claud’s genius resourcefulness i would probably be dead in five minutes.

but i am not, and thanks to precisely that genius resourcefulness have found a jaw-droppingly good flat some minutes away from holloway road tube for £130/week (S$1,397/month), fully furnished, complete with massive bedroom and private balcony. which reminds me, i should call the landlady to confirm that i want the place——

tbc.

edit/

so yay! contract-signing is saturday 9.30 am at the house itself, and then i can finally stop living out of my suitcase and eating sandwiches. here are pictures of the room i'm taking, courtesy claud, who took them and excitedly emailed me to say (in essence) GO TAKE THIS HOUSE OR YOU'LL REGRET IT, and in fact i think i would if i didn't.

(what a philosophically ambiguous statement.)





♥

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on the airport transfer from heathrow, there were these two middle-aged chinanese ladies, to whom i was listening intently because i couldn't quite figure out what language they were speaking, and that doesn't usually happen. it sounded like they were speaking a european language, but their lilt was distinctly sinitic, and for a moment i cherished the hope that they might be speaking shanghainese, which i dearly love listening to.

then i realised that they were saying: "第斯 帕克 意思 快特 必各。"

or, in pinyin, "disi pake yisi kuaite bige", i.e. "this park is quite big". what a cold shower it was when i realised that they were only speaking english with a very bad accent! at the same time, one of them was also incessantly pointing, like a child, to things outside the minibus window and going, "stair!" "fence!"

i felt so embarrassed for them, and for myself too by association of skin colour.

amongst other things, i dreamt a dream i dreamt of before while in london, which probably made more sense, or maybe it is the anticipation of going back to london in one week's time.

i was part of a military procession going through london, from outside to in, from the north to WC2, ending at what was called trafalgar square but which was heavily wooded and had no fountains. it was the second time that i'd dreamt of this dream, but still i did not know who, or what was being escorted. it wasn't the queen, and it wasn't a royal treasure. my memory simply peters out there. in the dream, bond street, bow street and endlinger street were all on the way to trafalgar square, but only the second of those is—the first is twenty minutes away, and the third doesn't exist at all.

whatever the case, i was apparently part of this special mini-contingent called the triumvirate (cue raised eyebrow), which not only held the flag, but also twiddled what looked like a band major's stick. i don't remember what i was doing anymore, probably something important, but unlike the previous time, where the procession went smoothly and finished at trafalgar square amid the roaring cheers of the public, this time no crowd gathered along the route, and all the way through, i was chatting with my fellow triumvir, to the extent that we made a wrong turn and separated from the main procession, were shouted at, and had to rush back helter-skelter to our positions. that was near the end, along the "endlinger st" that doesn't exist, and when the procession reached its terminus, everyone simply dispersed as though nothing very major had just happened.

and then i woke up.

For the first time in my life today, I had a haircut for $75. And in the process learnt about hairdressing techniques, among which are "sectioning" and "texturising". I can now confidently smoke my way through a hairstylists' convention with ease.


Before.

I would never have gone for such an expensive haircut if not for the insistence of my mother, who swears by the stylist Sunny's Vidal Sassoon London skillz. So this afternoon I sat in a chair and looked vaguely fascinated as my hair was fondled by a hot young Korean lady in unbelievably hot pants and yellow fishnets, who occasionally caused me great consternation as she leant in at times to reach for hair in a certain inaccessible part of my head (yeah, ???) and her, er, she pressed against my arms.

But now I know that with a few clips and one of those newfangled salon drapes (they now come with ginormous sleeves!) I can also look like a daimyo in the comfort of my home. In hindsight I should have taken a photo of that amusing sight, but we always think of things on the stairway out. An auntie thought I was sec 4, and my sister sat through 2 hours of hairdressing freezing in the salon aircon without telling anyone when my sweater was lying snugly in the bag in front of her. Tough.

Here's how I now look:



Walked around Ion with my mum and sis afterwards, introducing them to its delights and discovering a delicious Japanese restaurant called Watami on B3. Then I got so caught up in eating I forgot to take a photo of the most delicious dish of all. Tough x 2.

Am practically confined the rest of the days till I fly, because my mum complains that I haven't spent enough time with the family, except for tomorrow evening when I will sneak out, and next Friday when I will take advantage of taking my sister to school and meet jiunkai, whom I haven't seen in a year, at tampines. Tough for me x 3.

Tomorrow morning, am headed to the national museum to see an exhibition involving the Dutch masters. Am bringing my sister along. Hope she appreciates the art.

And hope it helps close an old wound that's just been reopened in the most unexpected of ways. Just one person knows about it all, but only she could understand.


Sent from my iPod

gep 25th anniversary dinner last night. brought back so many memories, both good and bad, but i daresay the foremost thought on everyone's mind was, "it's good to see you again!"

some people have changed a lot, some people haven't changed. mr low is still unconcerned about his marriage and ms chua is still unmarried and not looking, so we tried to bring them together, but alas, some people are just too shy! in the end supper and drinks was 8 of us and him, but no ms chua. not to say it wasn't fun without her anyway (:


林老師，the one teacher who will forever occupy top spot in my heart

On the way to Sanskrit class today, Vaish tells me about a funny incident involving her and her mum.

Me: Oh my god the two of you!
V: the two of me? Is this a fat joke?

Aw I love you, Vaishie (:

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in other news, i've finalised the lazeian alphabet! triumph!

place: the french place, 544 serangoon road
company: O & W

w leaves for stanford again in 7 days, so that gave me an excuse to get together with him and o for the first time in 6 years. nothing had changed, or so i saw it; to either of them, everything must have had.

i had 1) french onion soup with bread and melted cheese;

2) chicken leg sautéed with an array of condiments that enjambed onto the the next line, but which generally meant that it was served with gravy, chopped tomato, and fettucine, and of which i forgot to take a photo.

and 3) a giant profiterole with ice cream.

when i frowned that a french young man who jumped off the fusionopolis building two weeks ago was irresponsible, w said something that still nags at me: "you haven't read enough literature."

too much literature, rather, i think. literature taught me the limits of human intelligence; othello. literature taught me the intransgressibility of the individual; wuthering heights (i don't miss the irony in that). literature taught me that there is more to this world than the mundane and the quotidian, but it also erased any romantic notions i may have had. i've almost stopped reading now because of that, because i still want to retain as much of the idealist in me as possible, scratched and bruised though he may be. and i'm grateful to have met again tonight the two people who gave me confidence in idealism, whose droplets of words have kept alive the wilting flower in the parched cynical soil.

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a fragment i wrote last night.

A flutter of fireflies flit into view
and spread out across the night sky ahead
as we make our
descent
and soar over our heads in one straight line,
in salute. I turn to take a closer look
through the rear windscreen, and
when i turn back again only street lamps
sullenly droop their heads in file
and usher us on our journey, frequent guests
who do not warrant so much attention anymore.

wrote this on the bus journey back, as the bus went over a hill and the streetlamps that wound along with the highway ahead came into view, straightened out and zipped over our heads.

should it be "a closer look", or "an other look"?

i fly tomorrow, 5 minutes before the morning ends. my airport shuttle is picking me up at 8 am, and i ought to be asleep now, but my packing is unfinished, as is my food. while clearing out my fridge i found a box of boursin garlic cheese, a tipple of iced chocolate liqueur that i bought in december from france, and a full 750ml bottle of australian white. happily, there was also chocolate truffle, so now i have set aside stuffing things into boxes for the much more enjoyable task of clearing food from my fridge. yes, this all has a nobler purpose.

i can't wait. (:

i have been trying to sleep according to singapore time since i got back from france, which was almost a week ago. but things keep happening to prevent that, like loud parties, and last night it was the turn of dreams to derail my plans.

i went to bed at around 8pm. i fell asleep rather easily and was quite happy that i would finally be able to keep to my plan of waking at 3am, so happy that i decided to go out shopping. (obviously the dream had begun.) while out i bumped into a friend, who was with her impeccably-dressed parents, and completely veiled maternal grandmother, shopping at the same place. the grandmother looked like a sack under all her covers, but it wasn't convenient to probe. a few days later i was invited to their place for dinner, where upon entering their house i was struck by the spotlessness of their house, which looked as though dust never found an abode there. i duly complimented them on that, and proceeded to wander around the house as my hosts took leave of me to prepare the food, and took the wine i'd brought away for chilling. i thought i would perhaps offer to help with the food—after all, i couldn't just sit around waiting to be fed—and so made my way to what looked like the kitchen. it was dark, however, and as i turned the corner i couldn't help feeling curious as to why. there was a scratching sound coming from within, so i boldly proceeded to turn on the light and enter.

on the floor between the stove and a small table was a blue-green figure, bent double over itself , scratching its head with a thickly socked foot. it was the shape of a human, contorted as though a circus performer, covered in thick fungal growth from the waist up. that was why she was splotched blue and green. her skin had completely been obscured by the fungus, which now formed a thick epidermis that flaked finely off whenever she moved. her hair, too, was no longer the black that it once was. so this was the grandmother, and this was why she had on all those layers in the shopping centre. she crawled along the floor, cleaning up every bit of dirt there was, eyes darting around, still sharp at her advanced age.

"grandma!" i exclaimed, as alternating waves of nausea and pity crashed over and over again in my heart. "what are you doing and what happened to you?"

"oh hello, my boy, how are you?" the grandmother looked up with her bright eyes, narrowed with age but none the less energetic, and flashed me a toothless grin. but for that brief moment she never stopped what she was doing, and inched across the floor, tile by tile, each step leaving behind nothing but complete spotlessness. horror and disgust surged over me as i quivered in realisation of what this household was all about. i bent down and helped the grandmother up, and a tear fell from the corner of my eye in sympathy and anger. i heard about her childhood, her children, and how she was really happy that her daughter was a successful woman in life; i heard about how she had struggled through hardship and poverty to bring up her five children, none of whom wanted her anymore except this daughter, who was the most filial of them all; it was hard to stop a retch. unable to listen to any more of the story, i supported her into the bathroom, where i sat her down on a chair, and began scrubbing the fungus off her body. she tried to convince me that it was unnecessary, but her reason, that she was willing to suffer a little more so that her daughter and granddaughter might live well, and that she had been prepared for this ever since the day she noticed the first patch-like growths of fungus on her right arm, only made me scrub harder.

tears streamed down my face, and i awoke at 9pm to find them doing so in real life. i wouldn't get to sleep for three more hours.

the second dream was less appalling, but perhaps longer. it was an exam, which i was taking in the RJ hall with a random assortment of people. there were michael Q, blee, and other RJ schoolmates (which was normal enough), but there were also ber (nanyang), michael Z (american), and others who slip my mind. the exam was more accurately described as three exams in one, for three out of four of my modules this academic year. as the papers were collected at the end, michael Q turned to me and exclaimed, "oh my god! i hated that question…!" and the next scenes went by in a blur until we found ourselves in an e-mart shopping for things we might need for the next, and last, exam. all of us had different exams after the three in common, and in the shop we picked up things like a pink bowl, an umbrella, curiously decorated pencils, as well as stacks of cheat sheets and wondered whether each would help us in our next exam. i headed straight for the chocolates section, which was an entire wall's worth of the cacao confectionery, and also picked out some gatsby hairspray (which i am running out of in real life). michael Z looked frustrated in the magazines section so i went over to help him, but his friend came in at that time and said something to him that made him run out of the shop leaving his bag behind. so i thought i would be helpful and put in some stationery and a gratuitous car magazine, along with a crystal ball. i went to pay for my own purchases, and stood around after talking with yong jeng, realising that i clean forgot to study at all for my fourth module, and that i had even forgotten which module it was. as i panicked, michael Z reentered, and, upon noticing all the extra stuff in his bag, threw me an irritated, "i didn't want those!" look but promptly paid up anyway, grabbing a chocolate bar for himself on the side. i left the shop just as my phone alarm jolted me awake.

in another six hours i will be on the eurostar crossing the english channel to paris. my roommate has left, the room is in a mess because i'm packing to vacate the room in three weeks' time, and people i thought were reliable enough as housemates have done an about-turn on me after vacillating for three weeks, despite having agreed to be housemates in the full knowledge that i wanted people ready to sign the contract for the summer.

but berthillon, tuileries, eiffel, notre dame, elysées, here i come! time to see how good the artificial beaches on the banks of the seine really are.

watch this space for updates.

liberty and society have worn thin on me after a week of rousseau. at least it was still tolerable while vaguely relatable in my own special way to j.lau&co. but now—unnggghhhh! spent today trying to muster the general will to read, read! about Rousseau et la voie du totalitarisme but my fingers found that their particular will led them to click on youtube, and voilà, in an instant i alienated my liberty to do what i ought, and succumbed to the slavery of the impulse of mere appetite¹. or that might have had something to do also with the packet of haribo's i finished.

tomorrow i'm going to—

1. run. if i manage, for the first time in a week, to whip off my blanket without thinking, "oh it's bloody cold in the morning i'll sleep instead".
   
2. do history. origins of world war one, babe, how much simpler can you get? should i go to the (a) southbank centre, or (b) st james' park?
   
3. …i was going to say try looking at locke, but oh all studying and not-studying is reciprocal anyway.²

to think up ideas for the hors d'oeuvre and dessert for the next cookout, i reopened my dormant collection of bookmarked recipes that i wanted to try out. such as this (french apple cake) and this (yoghurt tartlets) and this (blueberry peach custard crumble), i got so hungry i went to the fridge and threw together anything remotely horsdoeuvrey and desserty i could find.

( results… (and other assorted foodporn )

¹ Du Contrat Social, I.viii. "…l'impulsion du seul appétit est exclavage, et l'obéissance à la loi qu'on s'est prescrite est liberté."
² Second Treatise of Government, §2. "…all power and jurisdiction is reciprocal."

decency!

( eugene, i did not know... )

well, everything's settled then. giving him a few days was a good idea. i hope my motherboard doesn't blow up. then again, if it wants to, i hope it happens before july 4th. (oops.)

i had a very exciting dream that woke me up and that involved running through tall grass in bloody clothes with two other friends, fleeing from someone, but i can't remember it now.

that, and i can't believe iowa legalised same-sex marriage. three cheers for the midwest! (interestingly, the first openly gay member of iowa's state senate is also a father. *raises eyebrow*)