What you say will not win any beauty contest.
- my best friend's wry remark to Yoyo, who even at the best of times, cannot claim to be politically correct

Each man carries within him the soul of a poet who died young.
- Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve

I realise I look forward to the quotes more than the words introduced by Wordsmith.org.

I'm not very good at saying goodbye.

You can never solve a problem on the level on which it was created.
- Albert Einstein

I'm just thankful if a problem gets solved.

Tomorrow is Buy Nothing Day.

While rummaging through my trinkets, I found an old golden baby ring of mine. Baby ring as in really meant for baby fingers, and there's no way I can wear it now unless I thread a chain through it and make it a pendant. I'm not sure if I ever wore it as a baby, cos it would probably be highly hazardous if I had a mind to chew on it. But there it is, a ring as old as I am. Weird isn't it?

To me, blogging is like letting strangers see close-ups of your fingerprints. They can identify you by the detailed minute ridges and whirls which are uniquely yours, but aren't able to step back and see the whole you.

Still doing my regular runs but I've recently stopped taking my glucosamine sulphate since my knees have stopped hurting. I guess I want to know if I can survive without taking those supplements, and taking so much medication every day is a drag. So far so good. *keep fingers crossed*

Now listening to the bossa tunes of Nicola Conte. In case you're wondering, Nicola is a he. Like Billie Holiday is a she.

Yesterday, I had a surreal moment while listening to the Cutest (married) Business Associate I know explain about system dynamics. When he was trying to apply system dynamics to business processes with constraints, ie. simulating reality rather than replicating reality, there was an instant I blanked out and thought "He's soooo cute he could be reciting the phone directory and I wouldn't know the difference". And I'm not the only one. I've seen other women blank out at meetings with this guy too.

Not to say I didn't understand him. I did. In cake-speak, he's talking about forecasting rather than creating real cakes to test out various what-if scenarios, eg. what if more baking powder is added to the cake mixture. The problem is reality can only be simulated but not replicated, because not all factors in reality can be accounted for. Like the same combination of cake mixture can result in different quality grades in the hands of 2 different bakers (one experienced and one not so), but forecasting didn't account for the baker's experience. But I digress.

Maybe I should stare at his forehead next time.

Last night I watched 2 German films with a friend whom I'll call Makhmalbaf (Makhmalbaf because he can spell this iranian director's name and I can't, without cheating). The 2 films were screening consecutively and both got delayed (the latter by 40 minutes). As a result, when the last film (Das Experiment) ended, it was nearly midnight, drizzling, and there was a long cab queue. Good shows though Das Experiment is a bit hard to stomach.

The funny thing is Makhmalbaf bought the same seats for both screenings, and it was strange to get ushered out of the cinema after the first screening to return to the same seats. So we swapped seats for a change, and of cos there's not much difference. Maybe I'm going through life slowly now, just swapping seats with the person next to me.

Between the darkness on the street
And the houses filling up with light
Between the stillness in my heart
And the roar of the approaching night
Somebody's calling after somebody
Somebody turns the corner out of sight
Looking for somebody
Somewhere in the night
- Jackson Browne, Tender is the Night

I still remember how to sing the chorus to this one.

Went mad shopping today (technically yesterday again). Supposed to get farewell gifts but got those as well as:
- earrings: tiny faux pearls (no reason 'cept I've got earholes and no faux pearls yet).

- book: F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night for only $2.85! Thank goodness for Penguin Classics and Times at Centrepoint is having a 20% storewide sale till end of November. Read Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby and The Diamond as big as the Ritz and other Stories way back when, but skirted round Tender is the Night cos I'm not sure I can deal with reading about mental illness. Now that I've read Prozac Nation, I feel ready to tackle this. Odd. My bro offered to get me Kurt Cobain's journal for Christmas. Whatever gave him such an idea? lol.

- Donnie Darko VCD. Wanted to watch this ever since I've read the Sight and Sound synopsis of a teenage boy having demented delusions about a man in a bunny costume. May have to join that stockpile of 15 VCDs first though.

- women's magazines: Her World (which is giving away shawls with the December issue) and Style (which is giving away a denim tote bag). Her World is actually selling out fast with the popular colours all but gone. Already bought Elle (with the free beige carrier bag). I'm nuts (but not as nuts as my US travelmate, who just bought about 40 cookbooks).

It's bro's birthday today (well yesterday, now that it's past midnight). We had dinner at Borders Bistro and bro commented that they frequent the place cos sis-in-law loves the tiramisu there. Sis-in-law raised an eyebrow and replied that she finds it too sweet. In fact, she thought that he's the one with the sweet tooth. And then they did this cute childish squabble about whose fault it is that they always end up there. Hilarious.

Irony. My eyes still look tired though I have no time to read save the times when I'm commuting.

While wandering round before a dinner appointment yesterday, I walked into a toystore and impulsively bought another Be@rbrick (my first one from Series 4). It's a blue one with white hibiscus flower motifs on it, and I actually have a mini Hawaiian shirt with that exact design. I'm over the moon already! :) Can't wait for Series 5 to be released.

Woke up late for the third morning in a row. And for someone whose bodyclock adjusts automatically to time zones while travelling, I find this strangely amusing. I bet I will wake up ok over the weekend when time doesn't matter at all.

Chatting da mouse on icq now and it's just past midnight. He's at work and I'm at home, and that makes all the difference. He's my yardstick to measure workload tolerance, so I guess I still have a long way to go.

Woke up late for the second morning in a row struck by a recurring thought. Let me say it again. Work is not worth it.

A poem begins with a lump in the throat.
- Robert Frost

And a song results from clearing the throat? Hmm.

I woke up this morning and discovered that I'm still intact. Unfortunately, disappearance didn't take place. I also didn't metamorphosize into an insect, or dream that I was a butterfly dreaming I was a human. What I was however, was late. Another long day at work. Woohoo.

I'm going to sleep and dream about how to disappear completely. You know, there's a Radiohead song called that. How to disappear completely. But they didn't give any instructions.

Why am I still blogging at 1+ am?!

Tired and busy. Read da mouse's blog and he's also tired and busy, but definitely on a grander scale. Sometimes I don't know how I ended up this way. I'm not really ambitious or career-oriented... I seem to be play-acting at work while waiting for someone to come along and stop the game. And I'm still waiting.

Another near accident today. Debated against jaywalking in the drizzle this evening and crossed the road at a traffic stop. Was walking away from the traffic stop when a van ploughed into the bushes where I was standing 3 minutes ago. Think it swerved to avoid a car that braked suddenly. Walked back anxiously to find out if the driver is ok, and dialed 911 on my mobile phone. The driver emerged and gave a wave to show he's ok. And 911 didn't connect. Stupid as it may sound, I realise that I don't know what number to dial for the police here. Maybe I have to call General Information to ask for the number next time. And then I realise perhaps I should stop crossing the road at traffic stops.

Lying is not only saying what isn't true. It is also, in fact especially, saying more than is true, and in the case of the human heart, saying more than one feels. We all do it, every day, to make life simpler.
- Albert Camus

Like saying sorry though you don't really mean it.

Was wandering round Books Kinokuniya with Yoyo when I spotted Italo Calvino's book If on a winter's night a traveller. Realised that I've never read his books yet and impulsively went 2 floors up to the library to check out if they're there. Didn't find If on a winter's night a traveller, but managed to borrow Calvino's Difficult Loves and Numbers in the Dark, as well as Albert Camus' The Outsider and Robert Olen Butler's Mr. Spaceman. It's about time I picked up reading again. I took one month to read Prozac Nation cos it was so depressing that everytime I started reading I wanted to put it down.

Returned to the bookstore to find Yoyo, who showed me an Oracle book, ie. random flip to a page for the answer to any question. He asked me to try it out so I did.
Me: Will I find true love?
Oracle: You'll have to go it alone.
Me: Can you confirm that answer?
Oracle: Yes.

omg.

I just found an illustration of an elf called Vaya. Surreal.

Can't remember who said: Those who would have nothing to do with thorns must never attempt to gather flowers.
And then there are those who can't help hugging the flowers tightly till the thorns draw blood.
Maybe this is why I still run.

Last night a DJ saved my life. No, I mean my best friend. Really. I was with him and M at the traffic light outside Zouk, waiting to cross the road to the coffeeshop and while away some time before the Rainer Trueby gig. The traffic light turned green and I was ready to walk on but my best friend yelled and I hesitated. Which was lucky, cos a taxi ran across right in front of me before screeching to a halt. I was stunned and the cab driver reversed with an apologetic look. And when I collected my wits enough to start crossing the road, another car zoomed across before me and sped away, even when the traffic light was still solid green (and not even flickering). Fucking hell. It's not like I've got a death wish. It's the fucking green light at the fucking traffic stop. Urgh.

Nothing beats a near accident to make you feel glad to be alive.

Time flew by so fast it seemed like today didn't happen.

Manic Street Preachers is trying their darnest to make me functional this morning. If I stop to think, I might have been unhappy; but I don't, and I won't.

What happened today. Had a 4 hour meeting and missed gym with the girls. Stuck in office now working. Snacked on chocolate for dinner while the rained poured on outside. And life goes on.

It's strange but recently I've been remembering a phone call we had, way before I started blogging. It wasn't particularly memorable, just one of those calls back when we would deliberately phone and leave voice mails on each other's answering service, knowing that the other is not home or sleeping. Then one night I decided to leave my handphone on in silent vibrating mode, and slept with it under my pillow. Not even sure that you'd call. Just in case. And you did. At 3+ am. I came to with a start and answered the phone groggily, stunning you cos you thought you had called the wrong number. I wasn't quite coherent and most of the conversation was lost to me, but I remember smiling in semi-consciousness. And after all this time, I'm sure you're doing fine and I'm glad.

But what I miss is not you though, but that hopeful me who'd leave the phone on.. sleepy but ready to answer life's calls.

It's gonna be a long day today.

I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
- Isaac Newton

Why does it sound so familiar?

I need a good joke. That is what I need.
- sms from a frustrated friend

Don't we all.

I tried to understand the inexplicable Grace.
- Nils Tavernier (director of Etoiles, the Dancers of the Paris Opera Ballet) on the film. Or perhaps he was referring to life.

My UK travelmate is the whimsical sort of girl who would turn to you, beam and ask if you want to listen to her sing her primary school anthem. Luckily I haven't heard it enough to join in. :)

Drug overload. Today I bought 240 capsules (120 of glucosamine sulphate and 120 of evening primrose oil). Didn't plan on getting the latter, but they were the LAST on the shelf so both my UK travelmate and I grabbed them. Then we wandered round and tried out another new flavour of Blizzard (Reese buttercup). It was while we were licking the Blizzard off our spoons that I had the brilliant idea of swallowing capsules together with it. You know those TV dramas where suicidal women would dump sleeping pills into a tub of ice-cream and sob while killing themselves with mouthfuls of ice-cream? We wanted to see if that worked, if we could swallow capsules without drinking fluid. Don't ask why.

Anyway, it could have worked with sleeping pill tablets, but these capsules we've got are monsters. My glucosamine sulphate capsule is the length of a joint on my last finger while the evening primrose one is just a bit longer than that. But we were gungho, and I started off gulping my glucosamine sulphate down with a chunk of Blizzard. I barely made it and my UK travelmate tried the same with her evening primrose capsule. Tried and failed, to be more precise. The woman turned to me with a funny expression on her face, and mumbled through clenched lips that she couldn't swallow. It was so absurd we looked at each other and burst out laughing hard and long, and she bit through her capsule accidentally and drank the primrose oil instead. Then we turned to look at my remaining evening primrose capsule, and naturally we had to find out if I could swallow it too. So I popped it in with a scoop of Blizzard, realised that it was Mission Impossible, and luckily could drink some water to wash it down.

I guess when people mention drug experimentation, they don't mean this.

Lazy Sunday morning getting my hair trimmed by my new hair stylist (recommended by my US travelmate). It's only the second time I've visited him but we get along fine. He told me about his 20 years hairstyling experience; how he used to help out in his family renovation furnishing business but cutting hair is more rewarding; how he used to go to the gym but stopped; how some of the hairstylists would run in the area round the hair salon; how to gauge distance between MRT stations (about 2 km); how he'd like to build a house in Penang when he retires. Hearing his voice project from behind my head and maintaining eye contact in the mirror while he snipped away was kinda surreal, but strangely relaxing. I wonder if he's as chatty with my US travelmate?

After they had explored all the suns in the universe, and all the planets of all the suns, they realized that there was no other life in the universe, and that they were alone. And they were very happy, because then they knew it was up to them to become all the things they had imagined they would find.
- Lanford Wilson, Fifth of July

To answer my US travelmate:
*cover my eyes* Yes, I love you gals no matter what. :)

I woke up to blog at 2+am cos my ISP experienced outage earlier on in the night. omg, I have no life. What happened yesterday. Went to my customer's (to quote M quoting Mac's: today going again you know?). Read Streats and found feature on local blogs. Went to the gym and did another 5km on the treadmill (yes I know I shouldn't but my knee doesn't hurt now, how ironic). Bought another ring (black with white cameo of girl's head.. not really kitschy) to add to my stockpile. Decided to change my handphone cover finally from the Ah Lian transparent cover which everyone grimaced at, back to the normal silver one (I changed it not cos I didn't like it but cos I wore out the number pad and had to deduce the keys). And yeah, that's basically it and I should sleep... after reading some blogs.

/ping
- sms I received yesterday to check if I were alive (and in the vicinity of my handphone)

I guess it will surprise no one that I've been busy lately.

A grumble line is the plotted amount of light from the sky that will be available in a building once an adjacent building has been erected. In building construction in ertain countries, a builder may need to recognize the legal "rights to light" of nearby building owners. Accordingly, formulas have been created for calculating the grumble line and these can be computerized... In the U.K., light entitlement was defined in the Prescription Act of 1832, called "Ancient Lights" or "Rights to Light." This law applies to windows that have been in use for over 20 years. More recently, English courts have specified the grumble line as the line that traces out the 0.2% skylight factor on a surface 850mm above floor level in a room.
- WhatIs.com's feature on grumble line

Scaled back to running 5km instead of 6km today despite knee not having fully recovered. Some things we do go against reason.

If you take someone's thoughts and feelings away, bit by bit, consistently, then they have nothing left, except some gritty, gnawing, shitty little instinct, down there, somewhere, worming round the gut, but so far down, so hidden, it's impossible to find. Imagine, if you will, a worlwide conspiracy to deny the existence of the colour yellow. And whenever you saw yellow, they told you, no, that isn't yellow, what the fuck's yellow? Eventually, whenever you saw yellow, you would say: that isn't yellow, course it isn't, blue or green or purple, or... You'd say it, yes it is, it's yellow, and become increasingly hysterical, and then go quite berserk.
- David Edgar, Mary Barnes

Styling is concerned with surface treatment and appearance - the expressive qualities of a product. Design, on the other hand, is primarily concerned with problem solving - it tends to be holistic in its scope and generally seeks simplification and essentiality.
- Charlotte and Peter Fiell, Design of the 20th Century

Interesting nugget of info for friends named Joe. De Pas, D'Urbino and Lomazzi designed a chair (named the Joe chair) in 1970 which was shaped like a baseball mitten. It was inspired by American baseball legend Joe DiMaggio (who incidentally married Marilyn Monroe). Quite different from having one's likeness immortalised as a statue, isn't it?

Just found out I've forgotten it's an old friend's birthday today. Quickly dialed her number but didn't get her. Laughed as I sang an offkey rendition of Happy Birthday to her voice mail, and realised it's been a while since I last sang to an answering service.

Today is wonderful. Bought 2 books from Kinokuniya: one on Designs of the 20th century (from the same series where I've previously acquired a book on 20th century artists), and the one and only copy of Alan Warner's Morvern Callar. Did a bit of shopping with my UK travelmate and we bought identical rhodium rings (which look like interlinked chain mail armour). Met up with my US travelmate for dinner and stuffed ourselves till we burst.

Random facts about my travelmates and me:
- we don't stuff ourselves if any 2 of us meet for meals; it's only when all 3 of us meet that we become dangerous.
- we 3 haven't gone for a movie together since 1999, when I first introduced both my travelmates at a movie screening (which to this date, my US travelmate insists is euro porn).
- we like to read verociously, and we often speed read women's magazines while eating dessert at NYDC without uttering much to one another.

Girlfriends are good for the soul. :)

After watching 3 horror movies in a row from Saturday midnight to Sunday morning, suffice to say I've incurred sleep debt in a major way again.

Tori Amos' Scarlet's Walk.

I read people very badly. It's like my gene pool had a poll to decide on my character composition.

Renegade genes: Heck it, let's make her have an instinct for music and words!
Sensible genes: That leaves no room for genes to help her read other people. She's going to be an EMOTIONAL RETARD you know.
Renegade genes: Awww, no big deal! She'll live.

And I do, all muddled up with delayed reactions. But I do.

Baking analogy at work today. While chatting with a baker, he remarked that if he were my customer, he would just store his slice of cake in the fridge and carry on eating doughnuts. Only when and if HQ makes announcements to come visit, will he take the slice of cake out and pretend to eat. Hmm.

I was trying hard to blog just now but had ISP problems. Was really impulsive and I think I just about exploded.. and if someone had caught me then, I would have just about spilt the beans on any bloody thing. But now there's no more obstacle to blogging, I cooled down and you know what? I'd write about music instead. To be more precise, another encounter with the music store personnel who recommended Hooverphonic (and will henceforth be referred to as Mr. Hooverphonic, to distinguish him from the group).

Went to sample music again. This time David Gray's latest album, Tori Amos' latest one entitled Scarlet's Walk and a Greatest Hits collection of the Manic Street Preachers. Actually, I've got every single MSP album already (and there is even a story in how I made a friend while looking out for the previously banned MSP albums, but I digress), but this compilation comes with dance remixes. It was too hard to resist, so I didn't. Tried my best to like the latest David Gray album because I love, no, worship his White Ladder album. But I couldn't somehow. The music just stood me at arms' length, like a polite stranger mindful of my comfort zone; when I'll much rather have invasive music to duck inside my danger zone. So no go. Tori Amos though is always an interesting choice. Beautiful words, not too sappy, more siren than woman. It was quite easy to pick really.

I thought that was it, till I made a circuit and chanced upon last copies of 2 Fila Brazillia albums. Don't know about you, but I'm a sucker for last anythings. I have this belief that they're planted there intentionally. Waiting for ME to come rescue them. One's an old 1997 Fila Brazillia album titled Luck be a Weirdo Tonight, with a cute rabbit perched attentively on the album cover, right out from a children's fairy tale. The other.. well, I forgot what it was. It was nothing as cool as the bunny. Anyway, I brought both back to Mr. Hooverphonic to sample. Liked the bunny album. Decided to stop myself buying it even though it was a last copy. Handed both Fila Brazillia albums back to Mr Hooverphonic and said no regretfully. And the strange thing is, he smiled and handed Luck be a Weirdo Tonight right back to me. As if he was warding me off making a mistake. And I didn't protest, but casually took it, the Tori Amos and the MSP albums to the checkout counter.

Listening to Luck be a Weirdo Tonight right now as I'm blogging. Happy.

I'm looking forward to watching a movie reviewed in November's issue of Sight and Sound as "a study of a relationship that continues its trajectory after one party has gone". About a girl called Morvern Callar and her boyfriend who committed suicide within the opening frames of the film. It's based on a book by Alan Warner, but Borders didn't have it when I called up asking for a copy. Sigh.

Was at the Esplanade having dinner with my UK travelmate, and we chanced upon the performance of puppeteers Cabaret Decadense from Montreal, Canada. Wonderful puppets miming to music from an African tribal version of Summertime to a sexy rendition of the Beatles' Hard Day's Night. Like my UK travelmate commented wryly, it's not often you see a striptease performed by a puppet. lol.

It's been a while since I had a baking analogy, so I'll try one to explain what I'm doing at my customer's. My customer has simple needs and is currently eating doughnuts. However, my customer's HQ is more ambitious and will like all the branches to share a cake and eat it. However, my customer cannot give up eating doughnut totally cos the slice of cake will not offer all the nutrients needed. So the customer will have to eat a bit of cake and a bit of doughnut, and in that sequence too. And if you think that's crazy, the cake hasn't been baked yet. Baking the cake will be hard work cos all the branches need to contribute the ingredients for their tiny slice, but make sure they don't override the overall taste of the cake. There are no bakers at my customer's. So where are the bakers and the oven? All located in another country.

So what do I do? I make sure that my customer comes up with their ingredient list; the bakers overseas bake our slice of the cake correctly, on time and within budget; the doughnut seller alters the doughnut contents so my customer can eat both cake and doughnut everyday without keeling over; and along the way generate all the paperwork to document from pre-bake to delivery.

Yes, all this and I don't even get to bake. Woohoo.