We left Warsaw for Krakow this morning. Bought a collection of poems by (Polish Nobel Prize winner for Literature) Czeslaw Milosz to read along the way. Raining on and off. Ate Jewish food for the first time. Walked for hours and hours. Tomorrow we're going to Auschwitz. I cannot begin to imagine how it'll be.

So I wasn't served peanuts on the plane and I wasn't sitting next to any lecherous old man. :) However my flight was slightly delayed but Pupi and I met up with my ex-colleague without a glitch. And now I'm typing this in the comfort of her place, 'cept I can't really read the Polish menu paths. Today Pupi and I tried eating at a Polish milk bar (food for the poor, sorta like a soup kitchen) followed by a Mac's meal (there's no English on the Mac's menu here). Everything is fine... tomorrow we go to the Royal Castle and check out the National Museum. Weather is great and people are friendly. There aren't that many asian tourists around so the 2 of us really stand out, especially with our boyish haircuts. Pupi is a great map reader and I just relaxed most of the time.

Life is good. Thank you.

Ok ok, so this is my last post. The evil Quest has foretold my future in the next 24 hours: eating peanuts on the plane and stuck in a seat next to a lecherous old man. :X Let's see how clairvoyant he is.

Last post before I go. Bought a huge Tare Panda soft toy impulsively to bring to my ex-colleague's 3 year old son. The problem is the monster doesn't fit into any luggage so it'll be hand carry all the way, including a 4-5 hour stopover in Zurich. Woohoo. Bet it'll be traumatic for TP and me, but hope the little boy will be happy. I still remember rushing to the hospital when he was just delivered, on the same day I passed my driving test. :) He was so tiny then. Hope he still remembers how to speak some mandarin!

Sayonara amigos!

What am I doing with my life? I'm marking time. I'm leaving reminders of what I did on my blog; with my photos and video clips; with my anal-retentively precise record of movies watched on my Palm V (down to the exact date, time and cinema); my minutely detailed list of books read and CDs bought. Basically there's not much variation between what I'm doing now and what I did last year.. 'cept it's a different book, a different movie, a different CD, a different travel destination. Everything is so routine and predictable I can walk through my life blindfolded.

I'm stuck in a rut and procrastinating. I'm always thinking let's wait till I get back from some trip, maybe that will jumpstart my life. 2 months after the Japan trip I'm still back to this. And I'm going to Poland now thinking life can be on hold till I come back. You know, in those magic shows where the magician makes the volunteer disappear and reappear later? Where does the volunteer go inbetween? Hiding behind some secret trapdoor, suspended in time, only waiting waiting waiting to emerge?

This is how I feel.

Supposed to go jogging with my best friend this morning, but it rained bizarrely so we had to duck into a coffee shop for breakfast. After the rain stopped, we were too full to jog so we walked up and down the jogging trail instead. Came home, showered and did half-hearted packing up. Surprised to find my luggage packed to the brim with my electronic gadgets and spices, Chinese books, foodstuffs and even 8 Days magazines to bring to my ex-colleague in Poland. Still haven't read up much on Poland though. Flying off tomorrow night and the whole family is sending me off, how nice. :)

Something unexpected happened to a friend recently and I wish I could pull off a stunt like hers. Death-defying yet blissful. Must go visit her next time too. :)

My Palm V just battery drained and I lost 5 days of data. But hey, what does 5 days of data mean anyway? Nothing much in the long run.

Bought a book from the mobile book fair today, and it's David Ireland's The Chosen. In it, it quoted physicist Richard Feynman's famous lines: "If you could pass on only one sentence to the future, let it be this: all things are made of atoms, little particles moving around in perpetual motion, attracting each other when they're a little distance apart, but repelling upon being squeezed into one another."

I asked my best friend which one sentence he would pass on, and he said it'd be "A complex problem can always be solved by another layer of extraction." Hmm. I said my line'd be "We don't have all the time in the world", which he thought was decidedly pessimistic. But my take is it's just rephrasing Carpe diem or "Seize the day", and meant to spur people on to treasure moments instead.

Asked my best friend for last minute dinner and pool, and he actually made it. I'm glad cos it's been a while since we last played pool together. I remember back when the four of us (Dave, 3TapRiff, my best friend and I) used to watch 11am movies together on Sunday mornings, and somehow we stopped doing this after watching That Thing You Do. Told my best friend I wish there's an indicator then to alert me that that would be the last movie we all saw together. He thought I was crazy and was tempted to organise a movie outing for us four again just to prove me wrong. That'd be nice, guys. :)

There's no Hard Rock Cafe where I'll be going. Aww.

Dave passed me a few copies of The New Yorker last night (thanks!) and I was reading through one on my way to work. I remember being addicted to this magazine during my brief visit in NY, and wishing they had something like this here. Something sharp (with piercing insights) yet blunt (to the point).

Pupi and I agree that we can't feel that we're leaving for Poland. Somehow we're going through the motions preparing to go, but our brains don't seem to register it. The next time I see her will be in Poland since we'll be flying in on different flights. I hope everything works out fine.

Your love is better than ice cream
better than anything else that I've tried
and your love is better than ice cream
everyone here know how to fight
and it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from
Your love is better than chocolate
better than anything else that I've tried
oh love is better than chocolate
everyone here knows how to cry
it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from...
- Sarah McLachlan's Your Love is Better than Ice-cream

For the newly weds. :)

Attending 3TapRiff's wedding dinner was like having flashbacks in Days of Our Lives. Besides the regular cohorts, I bumped into so many familiar faces I've lost contact with. The wedding music selection was groovy jazz, and it's the first time I've ever attended a wedding dinner where the first dish was presented to the tune of Sarah McLachlan's Your Love is Better than Ice-cream. Wish I could have seen 3TapRiff tapdancing to the Star Wars theme during the sabo session at the bride's place this morning though!

I've been to wedding dinners where I was practically dying to be just anywhere but there, but this wedding dinner was so fun I wish it could take place again. So Mr and Mrs 3TapRiff, please consider organising wedding anniversary dinners for us to attend! :)

Today is a special day for my oldest guy friend 3TapRiff. :) Have a great life together you two.

Poland! Poland! Not poledance!

Now typing with my laptop perched precariously on my lap, phone wire threatening to get yanked from it at any instant. Video transfer from camcorder to faster office laptop is a success, without the irritating blocks and blips. Problem is some sliced video clips refused to convert to mpeg format. Oh well, happy anyway. :)

Lesson for today. You can't change the rules in the middle of the game.

On pronunciation. A speaker at the seminar was introduced with the line "he hates the baking team for company XXX" and everyone went huh? Then we realised "hate" was the mispronunciation of "head". Sigh.

I don't have time cos I over commit. I over commit cos I don't wish to regret that I didn't do enough. And then I regret that I don't have time. Yes I know, I don't make sense.

An ex-colleague solved the mystery about the occasional little blocks which appear on my video clips with funny squeaks. It's the same as on those pirated CD-ROMs.. my laptop isn't fast enough transferring the video output from my camcorder and hence, there's a bad frame. I guess I'll try to transfer to my faster office laptop if I can find time. Hope that works.

While watching anime on my laptop's Media Player, the Player hit some bad sector on the CD-ROM and stopped with the error message "Catastrophic failure". Catastrophic failure? How could this be a catastrophic failure? Not fulfilling our dreams will be a catastrophic failure. Not treasuring every moment will be a catastrophic failure. Heck, even not drinking enough water will rank worse than this. If I were the Media Player programmer, I would substitute this error message with "Oops".

Attended a full-day seminar which was so boring I fell asleep in it. Ex-colleague sitting behind me sms'd me twice and even kicked my chair once to wake me up. Another colleague told me that the man sitting on my right kept sending me incredulous looks while I dozed on. This is actually a first for me... I'm normally really keen to pay attention to speakers and such. Getting more bochup.

Dropped by the VCD store and noticed the boxset for anime DNA. I remember picking up the first issue of this manga 6-7 years back when I was in Hong Kong but I still have no idea how the story ends. Finally the delayed story. I'm not doing the things I should be doing but I'm watching this tonight anyway.

No. I cannot bring you a polar bear from Poland!

What intrigues me about the music I'm currently listening to:
Moby has a song titled 18 which is track number 12 on his latest album, also titled 18. Why is it not track number 18? And what's so 18 about the song?
Boards of Canada has this song titled the smallest weird number. But what is the smallest weird number?
And where are the lyrics to South?!

Got a IEEE 1394 cardbus for my laptop and managed to transfer the video output from my camcorder. The problem is I've got some occasional little blocks which appear on my video clip with funny squeaks, and I don't know how to filter these. Anyone has any idea so I don't have to go read the manual? Hiaks. The clips were taken on the day of the Big Walk and it was quite hilarious, especially one of my best friend tearing a paper napkin which he used to cover his mouth like a mask. :) Anyway, the clips were HUGE. I definitely need to burn clips onto CDs or my harddisk is going bust soon.

I got myself a digital camcorder over the weekend. Do I really need one? Whatever happened to the lomo, which is my previous toy? I don't know. I've not done the most indepth research into camcorders, and I've got problems interfacing it to my laptop for movie editing. But I do know this. While I was sitting alone waiting for people at one of my favourite cafes, I heard a wonderful piece of jazz music being played. I took out the camcorder to capture that moment: my mobile phone and a little glass of sugar cubes on the cafe table; out-of-focus cafe patrons in the background; and the soulful jazz in the background. And I felt so content.

Groggy. Not enough sleep. Will have lots of work to clear this week before flying off. Need to buy stuff for the trip. Haven't replied emails. I know what I need. I need to clone me.

3 hours of sleep on Friday night (eh, Saturday morning) and 4 hours of sleep on Saturday night (eh, Sunday morning) has made me terribly tired now. Especially after the 10km Big Walk this morning. Got stuff to blog but I guess everything can wait. :)

Next week this time I'm on that plane for Poland! Woohoo!

Now I'm having a flashback moment like in the movies, where the protagonist lies in a gutter and thinks back on how he got there. I still haven't slept and I'm due in 5 hours' time for a haircut appointment, and not even with my regular hairdresser (who's away on reservist). Since I've only relied on a single hairdresser for the past 3 years, I'll probably panick about risking my hair with someone new, but till then, I guess I'll blog before I attempt to sleep.

Friday I had 2 customer meetings and a dinner with my colleagues. Following that, the gang decided to go sing karaoke, and though I'm not a big fan, I went through all 3 hours of it. Needed some detox music after the karaoke, so I joined Jedixus and his friends at Newsroom Bar for some dancing. The DJ announced that the local actress Irin Gan was there as well, but none of us caught sight of her. I remember thinking at one point that when I dance with my eyes closed, people around me change like furniture being rearranged. Then we proceeded for supper and left for home.

Good morning world! It's time to sleep.

Tech Support said "Virus lah"

all that time we spent together
but still it took a stranger
who's never seen you
to tell me what you couldn't

Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. And hate leads to suffering.
- Yoda, my favourite Jedi Knight

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones.
1. It's more redeeming than the blunder known as Phantom Menace.
2. Now I know who should die in Episode III. Those who aren't dead in Episode II but who won't make it in Episode IV.
3. I dislike the young Anakin Skywalker and feel the same about the older version.
4. No NSync Jedi Knights. There is justice after all.

The hot humid weather nowadays is dulling me. Mere air has gained weight, pulling its heavy cloak over everyone, causing us to gasp in shallow breaths. A whimsical element has cast a slowness spell so motion has become sluggish, like a Matrix action sequence. Tempers have risen on par with the temperature, and I feel I'm on the verge of self-combustion. What we lack now is a sandstorm.

Yesterday. Paid 2 bills, worked, blogged, finished watching the Sol Bianca anime series at one sitting. If not for work and mum, I will forget how to speak.

Music to be sad to. Music to play in the background when you and your SO are on the verge of breaking up but decide to do something very self-consciously playful so you can try to remember what it felt like to have fun together.
- extract from Choler Magazine's review of South's album From Here On In

Alone at work and you know what? It's time to go home.

More stupid things uttered at meetings. While trying in vain to unplug the projector cable from the back of my laptop, I muttered "the darn thing is in love with my laptop!". Then I looked up and saw the twitching lips from other folks at the meetings. Urgh.

In a meeting this morning with Germans and Asians. When asked a Yes-No type of question, an Asian gave a detailed but indirect answer. After he stopped, one German asked "is that a no?". Another German replied, "that's a yes which is actually a no".

On the plus side, I've got tickets to watch Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones on Thursday. Although I'll prefer that Jar Jar Binks is dead.

Baking analogy at work yesterday (Blogger was so slow last night I couldn't post). Bakers are hired to bake. Bakers should not do other tasks like fix the oven, answer the phone or manage the cash till, even if they're capable of doing so. And especially not when there are already people hired for the other tasks. If you push non-relevant tasks to bakers with the excuse that you're too busy or incompetent, then why aren't you working as late as the bakers or trying to be competent in what you're supposed to do? Why can't it be understood that bakers generate revenue when they bake, which sustains the bakery.

Simmering mutiny in the bakery. Woohoo.

I'm pissed off. A colleague emailed me to ask something, and I replied instantly via email. However, he didn't bother to read my reply but came over to ask me personally instead. When I asked if he had read my email, he said no. So why bother emailing me at all in the first place? For an audit trail? Geez.

Today I asked a new colleague from another department what made him join our company. He smiled and said he had his job interview here while we were having a monthly birthday celebration for colleagues. So he had his interview in the room next to the room where we were celebrating, and through the thin walls he could hear us singing the birthday song loud and off-key. Somehow he thought we sound friendly, and didn't think it such a bad idea if we sang a birthday song for him too when his turn comes round.

So our bad singing actually enticed someone to join us. Incredible.

While visiting my travel agency this afternoon, I noticed a flashing yellow siren in the corner of the ceiling. It doesn't flash all the time, and there's no distinguishable pattern for the flashing. So I asked my travel agent what it's for. She told me that the siren will flash for missed calls that the travel agents didn't pick up. Wow. And I thought it's for air-con temperature variations.

There is a conspiracy going on to stop me from attending Fat Boy Slim concerts. He's only here when I'm out of the country. Urgh.

After watching the rerun of Phantom Menace on TV last night, I realised one thing.
Yoda speaks like a German with verbs at the end of the sentence.

Of the songs from Depeche Mode's Exciter album, there is one entitled Breathe which I have a fondness for. I don't think it's released as a single, it's more like a hidden gem. It's about a guy who has heard rumours that his relationship with a girl is falling apart, and he's pleading with her that it's not true. In the whole song, there's only one mention of "breathe", and it goes:

Put your head on my chest and breathe love

Like love is a vapour rub on his chest that she can inhale. But when Dave Gahan sings the line so imploringly, I involuntarily hold my breath cos he sounds so sad. I find that oddly amusing, that he made me do the reverse.

The accidental gig and English football. I never planned to go clubbing last night but I did anyway. A friend sms'd me last minute that he's spinning records and surprisingly my best friend could make it despite the short notice given. To explain about the 3 of us: the DJ is the Liverpool fan; my best friend is the loyal Man U supporter; and me, I am the passive Arsenal fan. (Though my best friend insisted that supporting Arsenal cos I like Nick Hornby's book Fever Pitch, and the author is the one who supports Arsenal, is not reason enough. But why does it need a plausible reason?)

Anyway, last night there was a football match on between Liverpool and Ipswich during the gig. And there's a TV monitor next to the DJ console broadcasting the match, as well as another one near the bar. But does the DJ need to watch TV when he's spinning? At least my best friend seemed very keen on the match, even though his team wasn't playing. So we danced and he spent his time divided between the TV monitors at the DJ console and the bar. He was visibly agitated when Liverpool won 5-0, and I hummed the tune to Hawaii 5-0 to rub salt into his wound.

Post-gig, the 3 of us ended up at a dingy coffee shop chatting. The guys raved about World Cup and why Japan can't win it. When I asked why, the guys looked at me like I'm daft and said it's cos Japanese supporters don't hate enough. You've got to hate the opponent teams, you need to jeer at them... and the Japanese supporters have been known to cheer losing oppositions before. Good grief.

Some time later it started raining cats and dogs. The rain made a surreal waterfall backdrop on the roof of a parked taxi, while I sat there in the humid coffee shop listening to the guys. And I remembered thinking, so this whole day is meant to lead up to this. I didn't know I'd end up here but it's not bad at all is it. And I felt relieved.

The delayed magazine. Last May there was an issue of Uncut with a cover story on Depeche Mode, but somehow it wasn't sold in the usual places. A friend managed to buy it though I didn't. It was this frustration that made me subscribe to Uncut so I won't miss any issue anymore. Recently the friend lent me this issue so I finally had a chance to read it. I never did watch Depeche Mode in concert... the last time they performed here I was in the midst of exams. The Depeche Mode article mentioned the difficulties the band was going through in those days with drugs, and how their latest album Exciter was made in their post-drugs redemption days. My take on drugs has always been that if you love the music enough, you don't need drugs to enhance your appreciation of it. But reading about Dave Gahan going on and off drugs so often like he had a death wish was heartbreaking. After reading this article, I listened to my copy of Exciter again. Trying to hear the salvation in his voice.

Thought about jogging this morning. And then I thought again.

The Fellini movie I saw last night. Can't explain why it appeals to me. Just thought the shots were so stunning the movie could be frozen at any instant like a photo album.

Recently my laptop keyboard seems possessed. Out of the blue, my IE will attempt to create new folders in the Favorites menu by itself. I have to wrestle for keyboard control with the demonic forces, and it's not cos of line distortion when I'm logged on either. The cursor will go on a round trip about my screen even when I'm not online. Urgh. Think the warranty for the laptop is just over. Guess I'll stick to rebooting and hope the problem goes away.

Baking analogy at work today. Today we're trying to bake cakes from our office but using our customer's oven via remote access. However, the customer's oven is occupied with baking a huge cake which no one knew anything about. Nobody had any idea why this cake's being baked, when it was placed in the oven, or even who this cake was for. But no one dared to risk dumping this cake out of the oven. As a result everyone had to share baking their cakes in the oven with this gigantic cake, which is as effective as replacing the oven with a matchstick. Finally we placed a distress call to the customer who didn't know the Unidentified Baking Object either (but couldn't just chuck it), and so everyone baked on.

The most ridiculous incident at work today. My bakery is currently recruiting and one of the headhunters we have commissioned actually approached our own baker (the one who is always outstationed at the customer's site) to ask him to join our bakery! Won't it be more logical to ask him which bakery he is in first before asking him if he wanted to consider a career move? lol.

Dr Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. One of my favourite movie titles ever.

There will always be people who are nicer to you than you deserve, and there will be those you treat better than they deserve. That's just the way life goes.

Wanted to buy mum a Mother's day lunch this weekend, but she insisted on cooking up a storm instead and letting me pay for the ingredients. Told her it's meant for her to take a break but she implied she would enjoy it more to feed me. Cos it'll be the first meal this week that I'll be eating at home. :)

A baker is outstationed at the customer's site so often that we hardly see him in the office. When he emails back, he'll often change his user name to confuse us. So far he has named himself Shinobi vs Dragon Ninja; What's my Age again?; Power Puff Fish... in fact he's changed his identity so many times that it's no longer possible to sort emails by sender name to track down emails from him.

At least I'm luckier than him, I'm not alone at a customer's site.

After work, I scoured through Funan centre but couldn't seem to locate any places selling the Creative Prodikeys. Consoled myself by buying the VCD for a Japanese indie movie Kamikaze Taxi, as well as a Mac's Choco-cone. Realized that Mac's is promoting new World Cup meals for the J-Burger and K-Burger (representing Japan and Korea respectively) and was immediately enchanted (yes yes yes, I'm absolutely lame). Earmarked them for future trips to Mac's and then I made my way home.

Arts Central is screening the critically acclaimed China movie Devil on the Doorstep tonight but I didn't feel like watching a movie tonight. In fact, I've probably seen more movies this year than any other year of my life. Geez. I should just read a bit and sleep early, and keep my fingers crossed about a better tomorrow.

And Andrea, despite all the calamities this world is in, my mum's worried about you. Hope you pull through.

Still feel a strong affinity for Ned Rorem's diary entries. Could have sworn I were him in a past life but wait, we're alive at the same time aren't we? Anyway I don't care, I'm just gonna binge quoting him.


How many thousands have I spent on perfume and alcohol, cigarettes and Turkish baths, disappointing trips and third-class movies; how many months in silent bars or parks, expecting, in a chair with a book not reading, or waiting in line, waiting in line? Who will tell me it's a loss when I know life must be for pleasure? The parks were balanced by museums, the baths by oceans, bars by composition, and the dreaming chair by books finished. Nothing is waste that makes a memory. Only an American bothers to consider such "justification", turning out souvenirs on the assembly line.

+++
Is art odd- or even-numbered? The Rockettes are even-numbered (6 x 6 = 36) but the best corps de ballet seems odd-numbered - or even-numbered oddly distributed, whereas how can you distribute odd numbers evenly (i.e. in pairs)? Yet iambic pentameter, which would appear the ultimate in odd-numberedness, ends up being in six, since there's an instinctive pause at each line's end. Look at Stravinsky's early odd balance, or Bach's even unbalance. The unexpected (which is art) is always odd, but (as art must) it always evens out. It's as clear in space as in time. One square is a bore (hence the slang; square) while circles are forever magic.

+++
A diary has impact only through the accumulation of unlimited observations (of which many are obsessive and recurring), never through the development of themes (for then it would no longer be a diary). Works of art must have a plan; beginnings and ends. A diary necessarily has no form beyond the accidental one of improvisation; hence, though it cannot be a work of art (improvisation precludes this), perhaps it can be a masterpiece.

I need a booster for the crap at work today. I think I'm going to get myself a Creative Prodikeys. Muahahaha.

Woohoo. Today's the day for attracting unreasonable customers. Another customer complained that we baked a cake without asking her how she wanted the cake to be. Reality is that the baker has emailed and phoned her but she didn't respond. So in order not to miss the dateline, the baker baked a preliminary best-fit cake (which she wanted to change, and refused to pay extra for). It's not that I'm unwilling to change the cake for free to satisfy the customer. It's just I cannot stand false accusations of negligence by my baker. CANNOT.

Baking analogy at work today. Spent 2 hours of my life painfully going through recipes with a picky potential customer. He'll go, "What's this you listed under cake ingredients... 4 eggs? What sort of eggs? Brown-shelled or white-shelled? Freshly hatched or bought from the supermarket? I don't understand what you're trying to tell me. If they're supposed to be chicken eggs, say so!"

There must be more to life than this.

On my cubicle wall are 3 copies of the same flyer from the club Zouk in different colours: red, brown and black. It's entitled Among Computers and depicts a 60s looking sort of robot in the foreground, with 2 men working on an old-fashioned tv look-alike monitor in the background. No idea why this flyer appeals so much to me.

It's not that I'm happy but I'm just unsad. Pathetic isn't it?

Of the few things I have blind faith in is my mum's cure for hiccups. She doesn't believe in drinking water, taking deep breaths or being surprised to get rid of hiccups. Instead, she'll ask me calmly to recite every single thing I've eaten that day. My hiccups always stop miraculously after I've answered that question. I don't know if it's a placebo effect cos I trust my mum's unswerving belief, or cos this unscientific method does have some rationale. The point is it works.

If only I have such faith in other matters.

A poem is never finished, only abandoned.
- Paul Valery

Can't remember the last time I wrote any poems. Perhaps I just want the quick easy way out when I write now.

You can hold back from the suffering of this world. It is allowed. It is your disposition. But it may be that this very holding-back is the one evil you could have avoided.
- Kafka

Right at this moment I'm wondering about the latest album by Medaski, Martin & Wood called Uninvisible. Not Visible, but Uninvisible. That's what I am, being uninvisible. There but holding back.

And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
- Anais Nin

The mixed bag of thoughts I'm having this morning:
1) I read a soundbite from Phil of the band Orbital, who were performing as themselves playing at an industrial age kind of concert in an upcoming movie. At one point, the music was cut and everyone had to dance silently while some dialogue was being recorded. He said that the sound of 12 000 people breathing together was amazing and wished he had taken a sample of that sound. I wish he had too.

2) Last night, I had my monthly eat-and-read ritual with my UK and US travel mates. As usual I was the slowest among us to read women's magazines. Why, when I read everything else so quickly?

3) Still reading Ned Rorem's diaries inbetween my music magazines. He wrote: Life is inconvenient. It's not ego or evil but sheer mediocrity that's killing the planet. He's probably 79 now, does he still believe that? Or perhaps even more strongly.

4) Even though I have no time, I need to learn something new.

Early morning lying motionless in bed. Gently cradling my nervous whirling Discman against my abdomen, like trying to coax a trembling creature to sing. Fingertips feeling the minute vibrations of the Discman moving at a different beat from the music, thinking what an uncoordinated dancer this is. Eyes closed but smiling faintly to myself, amused that I'm sharing such an intimate moment with an inanimate thing. But happy yes happy, so let's not ask for more.

Isn't it time for me to sleep now rather than type quietly in the wee hours of the morning? Urgh.

I enjoy watching foreign movies where I need to read subtitles in order to understand what's going on. In this case, I'll treat the foreign dialogue like part of the soundtrack and strangely it works.

I remember watching the local movie 12 Storeys where half the dialogue is in Hokkien dialect. Cos I don't understand Hokkien, I'd find everyone else erupting into laughter before I realised why from reading the subtitles. Even then the subtitles wasn't so funny either. I wished there could be Hokkien dialect classes I could attend. Really.

My german ex-colleague enjoyed watching the local movie Talkingcock the Movie cos it really made her laugh. Then she recounted the first time she learnt about Ah Beng and Ah Lian. I don't know how to explain it, but Ah Beng and Ah Lian are terms to describe the sort of guy and the sort of girl who are well, loud and uncouth in a typically Singaporean fashion. Must be seen to be understood.

The first time my german ex-colleague heard someone calling a girl Ah Lian, she wondered if the person meant to say Alien but mispronounced it the Singlish way instead. lol.

Leslie_ (a diehard linux fan) writes his journal on a text file in his PC. When I asked him how much he's written, he replied 64 kb. But how many pages is that? I persisted. He couldn't tell cos there's no Word on linux, so I got my geeky best friend to help figure out.

Here's the answer from the king of .plans:

words avg length is 4 letters/bytes
64 k = 65536 bytes
65536/5 (include space) would give you a good estimate on words
Then you can find out the lines, 13-15 words per line.
Then approximately 60-66 lines per page.

Less than 20 pages.

Eh, so if I convert this past year of blog posts to a Word document, how many pages will that be?

Came to work listening to Doves' latest album The Last Broadcast. The kind of glorious music which makes me beam and leaves me tingly with the impetus to bounce off walls. How can anything possibly go wrong after blessed with hearing such wonderful songs?

Now reading the diaries (1951-1961) of composer Ned Rorem. I think he's a blogger way ahead of his time. You can just read his entries randomly and not worry about losing the thread. I wonder what his music sounds like. He wrote: Art, sorrow, and beauty are perhaps useless, but no more so than earth itself. What is useful? Useful for what? I can't remember when I last did something useful (no, I don't count work as being useful).

Hi. Thanks for waiting. Well I cheated, and I'm back.

It's been 8 days since I've last blogged here, though there isn't a single day where I haven't blogged in my new private blog.

What I've discovered in these 8 days:
1. Blogging has become an integral part of my day, no matter where I blog.
2. I blog the same even in a private blog. Maybe cos nothing terribly personal happened within this timeframe, but I still post quotes that interest me, and write about movies, books, music, and those little nuggets of info which bowl me over.
3. People still visit this old blog.
4. I miss this blog.

Though friends have been very supportive of me blogging here again, I didn't actually mean to do so. It's just that yesterday I checked this site's counter, and found that someone was reading through my old archives for more than 2 hours. I guess I was stunned and at that moment I knew. Couldn't figure out who or why, but thank you for changing my mind, and showing me that what I wrote could glue you to a screen for so long.

I guess I'd still keep that private blog, but for whatever it takes, I'm back. :)