Weather in New York is erratic. Some days you roast, some days you get drenched. I've forgotten how much walking there is to be done. Ate the best ice-cream in NY. Visited museums. Roamed round Central Park. Shopped. Watched a comedy club performance. Broadway musical. Indie gig. Still haven't tried the NY cheese cake! Or seen the Flatiron again! Will be in Chicago on Sat. :) Out.

Last walk in Singapore before I leave on vacation:
11:09 minutes round the entire circumstance of the Raffles City.

No I've not packed. The most important question for me now is actually: should I bring my Discman or my iPod along for the trip? The Discman doesn't allow for so many songs, but it has a longer battery life and allows me to sample CDs I'll be buying there (and there is no doubt about buying them). On the other hand, I've got all these songs I should listen to before attending the concerts and they're all on mp3s. I thought I would bring my iPod if my travel companion would bring a Discman along, but some folks seem not to need to travel with music!

I think I've decided cos I'm doing reverse engineering now by converting mp3s back into the larger wav files and burning them into CDs to bring along for the trip. And I've bought a slimmer CD wallet just for this purpose.

Until I board the plane though, this trip still feels surreal.

Random thought #252: If the One (assuming there is one) were to appear right this moment, I would tell him with as straight a face as I could manage: "I want to shimmer into your affections like a postcard from a dream." And it would be so absurd we would break off into laughter.

She laid still on the grass and squinted through half-closed eyes at passing clouds. She didn't jump when a voice suddenly spoke somewhere behind her.
"You always had a problem running with other people."
She didn't respond.
"I remembered when you were young, there was an incident where your teacher asked the whole class to run round the field. You wouldn't obey, cos you couldn't tell the difference between running round a field and running round anything else. So she punished you and made you run round a bush."
"No, it was a tree," she corrected him softly, but still she didn't move.
"And there was the time when a girl in your class cried cos she had run too slow. You couldn't understand why she bothered comparing herself to other people, as long as she ran well. So you stopped running and walked instead in protest. The other children were upset that you didn't bother to run, and ran alongside you, trying to pull you along in their wake. You didn't budge."
"Yes," she said.
She could hear him sigh. Then he spoke again.
"Want an apple?"

Once I had a soft toy koala bear named Llewellyn (a kingly name, and there were so many 'L's in that name), and a toy cow named Kassandra (named after Kassandra the prophetess, sister of Paris of Troy and seeress doomed to speak the truth which no one would believe).

I shudder to think what names I could possibly bestow upon children.

We're a consumer society emotionally as well. We expect to be happy 100 per cent of the time, 365 days a year, which of course makes us really quite pissed off. We're used to this emotional culture of polar opposites, happiness and sadness and nothing in between, but for generations people operated on that fulcrum in the middle, neither too happy or too sad. If you and I were in Greenwich in 1840 we would be surrounded by all the disease and degradation of a dock, the disabled sailors, the beggars and prostitutes and molls, and we would have been passed by a couple of fantastic-looking carriages with some rich and very beautiful people in them. And when you see those sort of extremes you're keen to find a middle ground. The problem today is we have no dark side.
- Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen, decorator

I seem to learn the strangest things during lunch. Today's discoveries:

The coins produced here during 1939 and 1941 had very high silver content; hence they tend to be shinier. I know someone who actually checked every coin that passed through his hands to find those produced in these 2 years. And he managed to find a 10 cent coin too.

When English is a second language, it tends to become sounds. For the first time, I've just heard Tamil being described as alarm clock sounds.

Last but not least, it is easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. So it may be a better idea to do something first than to err too much on the side of caution.

The magician's assistant has been pulling startled squirming bunnies out of top hats for the longest time. All that smiling at the audience was getting to her, and nobody ever warned her about cleaning up after the animals. The magician's repertoire has increased and so did the tricks the assistant had to learn. She would lay all keyed up in bed mentally going through her routine now, hoping to keep up. The assistant missed the disappearing act, and wished it back wistfully.

I know there's no time-out in a race, but didn't Atlanta ever tire of running? What if she veered off track and laid down on the grass to muse at cloud formations? Would everyone wait patiently till she was ready to run again? And would she be allowed to carry on from where she's left off, or would she need to return the starting point?

Would you still want to race?

If some of you needed to squint when you read the previous few entries, I was experimenting with font size and have since come to my senses. The fonts are back to normal now. Now I just need to fix my life.

The Whore of Mensa. lol.

Today we were having a teleconference where only one of us was supposed to be present. The rest of us just sat around raising eyebrows at the conversation that was taking part, and scribbling prompted questions to the one person who was supposedly alone. It felt like a conspiracy. In the midst of it all, I felt amused and then confused about working life.

A girlfriend my age told me recently that I'm "still so little girl". To be frank, I'm "the little girl" only if I feel safe enough to let my guard down in front of someone, and there will be people who will never see that bit of me. I hope there will always be people I can be "the little girl" in front of.

Because I can't be in 2 places at once, you did something sweet for me. You phoned unexpectedly while I was with the girls, and when I answered the call, the first thing I heard was muffled music. And then I heard Leslie sing and I started to laugh. You spoke then and asked if I could hear the music. I asked you what song it was and you didn't know, and we kept silent a while as the band played on. I guess you remembered I adored Leslie, and you gave me music by proxy.
 
It was a short call but the kindest gesture. Thank you.

In Greek mythology, Atlanta was the one who ran. In order to wed her, a suitor had to beat her in a race. Because she was so fast, no one ever did. But there was one suitor named Melanion who fell for her, and prayed to Aphrodite for help. Aphrodite gave him 3 golden apples to be tossed at Atlanta's feet during the race. The plan was for Atlanta to pick up the golden apples, and in her distraction, grant enough time for him to catch up and win the race. Though Atlanta didn't really need the golden apples, she was confident that she could pick them up and still win, so she did it anyway. But she lost and Melanion won her.
 
What I'm trying to say is the golden apples you tossed my way have caught my eye, but I also want to win the race.

I appreciate the precision that comes from working on an assembly line. Everyone and everything in the right place at the right time. No time is wasted. If only my work is like this.. without people holding me up to wait at meetings they've initiated, or making me check back and forth like a secretary on their schedules.
 
I've become scary, and maybe it's time to reevaluate my life again.

Thought at this precise moment: I've not run 10 km in weeks. I'm afraid I'll never run that distance again and that is way too scary.

Judging from the junk I eat, sometimes I wonder why I don't keel over from malnutrition. Today I had raisin bread for breakfast, raisin roll for lunch (eaten in front of the terminal as I worked through lunch), chocolate ice-cream for tea (bought in frustration after a tele-conference was delayed for 2 hours, though I did manage to squeeze in other work), and a muesli bar for dinner.

Then I felt so bad I went to the gym in the next building for a run, and even then I only ran 3km. When I got back to my office to carry on working, da mouse messaged me to ask me to go home, and that he was already home. I felt crestfallen and then he replied that he was just bluffing and still working in the office too. But he thought I should have been happy for him if he had been home earlier than me. And he was right, except I got home earlier again. Sorry! Next time I'll cheer when you get home first ok? :)

I need a break so much I'm getting paranoid. Everytime a colleague mentioned work, I asked for the deadline and reminded him or her about my imminent vacation. Somehow people don't seem to be registering this.

Random thought #1012: My new office never ceases to amaze me. On one hand, it is the only place that allows me to carry out mobile phone conversations clearly in the elevator; on the other hand, I need to walk 10 minutes to the next available fax machine. And I spent the same amount of time over the phone arguing for the alternative to email a request rather than fax it to no avail.

Recently I've been upset with people for wasting my time. They don't seem to understand I've none to spare and to be frank at the risk of sounding obnoxious, face time with me is not cheap. Things came to a head today when I received 5 calls within a 90 minute meeting (which in my opinion is 89 minutes too long). On top of all this, I got bogged down by mindless admin tasks and I just got home from work. Urgh. I feel murderous. :(

Random thought #25: There was once when you met my friend and I for drinks. We were doing girl talk and you weren't paying any attention. Instead you were toying with my mobile phone and it was only later that I found out you recorded a voice message on it. In the midst of the pub noise, you had put on an exaggerated drawl and said, "You are talking too much". I didn't wipe out that recording though I didn't listen to it again.

Upon seeing you again, I realised in retrospect that I had your voice in my backpocket and we didn't speak at all.

Someone told me he couldn't listen to a song on auto-repeat for more than 5-6 times or it would sap his fondness for the tune. And I wonder what could have made me into the sort of person who could listen to one song on auto-repeat ad nauseum.

Current auto-repeat song: Kings of Convenience's Love is no Big Truth.

How the sun first glimpsed Icarus a long time since he fell to earth.

Since I didn't expect to see you again, I had no idea it would take place in the wee hours of the morning in a field in the middle of nowhere. It was at an outdoor gig and I've danced for quite a while in the same spot, while friends had taken turns to disappear elsewhere. The music was good, and I was drenched and dishevelled.

I've met quite a few acquaintances in the crowd, and hugged in greeting those who didn't know me better. I thought it more a waste of effort to explain why I don't hug, than to just hug them in return anyway. So hugging became a strange farce, since I don't hug the people closer to me. But I digress.

I was dancing when someone in a white shirt 2 rows ahead caught my eye. From the back, he had your built and that unwieldy hair, and even dressed like you. And then I realised it was because it was. You. You were with some friends and seemed to be having fun. I took a step back in confusion and turned around to stare into the eyes of a tall blonde guy. He hesitated, then bent his head down to my ear and said, "You're one hell of a dancer." And he straightened his back and the conversation was over. It felt so surreal. But I smiled and nodded at him, and did what I was one hell of.

Somehow you drifted near me sometime later, to hug a friend in greeting. You looked over your friend's shoulder straight into my eyes and despite my longer hair, I could tell you recognised me. I didn't react though, except to smile and close my eyes to dance. Music called out to me instead of you, and I felt fine.

Over the years I've taught a few people to remember pi. My best friend outdid me by remembering 70 more decimal places than I can, but he soon forgot. Well yesterday I taught you to remember pi to 30 decimal places on the phone. It wasn't intentional but somehow inbetween talking about garlic sandwiches and Episode 1: Phantom Menace, I got you to remember pi. You laughed and protested that you'll be chanting pi to yourself unconsciously, but I didn't really expect you to remember though. This evening I sms'd you in the middle of a late meeting impulsively, and asked you to recite pi. You sms'd back precisely up to 30 decimal places within 10 seconds.

Hey Z, now there's one more person who can audit the numbers when we recite pi. lol.

I bought a pair of Camper shoes on sale today. When I checked online, I realised they're actually from a range entitled Brothers, and there are other ranges called Sisters and Twins. lol.

I love pockets. I love pockets on cargo pants where I can stash everything from mobile phone, wallet, tissue packet to passport. I love pockets on jackets where I can tuck my hands in when I'm cold. I love pockets where I can store name cards as I'm making the rounds. And today, I discovered more pockets. To be precise, I discovered that what I thought were fake pockets on an old jacket were actually real ones. The pocket seams were sewed up so tightly I didn't bother to unpick them before, but somehow I picked absentmindedly on a thread this afternoon and before long, managed to free up one pocket. I didn't have time to unpick the other one till the end of the day, so I went around the rest of the day with my one-pocket jacket, feeling strangely pleased with myself.

It's odd how little it takes to be happy sometimes.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.
- Sylvia Plath

So now I know I dance in a dead world.

Today.
I should have been less abrupt with my family.
I should have paid more attention to my team members despite being busy.
I shouldn't have fussed about attending a local gig, which incidentally seemed to be sold out anyway.
I should have eaten vegetables.
I should let go of things out of my control and concentrate only on those that I can manage.
I didn't read anything non-work related except for the newspapers.
I should have showered and been asleep by now, cos it's past 1am.
I understood myself less.

Tomorrow must be different.

Random thought #452: If I listen to my Discman while walking between meetings, I reckon I can squeeze in at least 2 songs before I reach the next meeting venue. Maybe that will make things better.

Is this what working life is? Dashing between buildings for meetings while balancing cups, just so I'll get to drink. Catching 3 minutes of my boss' time inconclusively along a corridor. Not being able to retain bakers even though you're nice to them. Spending more time exchanging emails about who should be doing a piece of work than the actual time needed for the work itself.

I'm desperately looking forward to my vacation.

Music is my boyfriend. lol. I have the same sentiments, 'cept this is coming from a band whose frontman is gay.

I'm not the sort to listen to my Discman and think of songs by their track numbers. Instead, I'll jot down the song titles and artists onto a post-it note which I'll stick on the back of my Discman. Then I'll turn it around to check when the songs strike my fancy. Somehow that rounds out the song for me.

Kept ending up where I wasn't supposed to be.
Ate at Spizza with the gang instead of visiting a newborn baby at a girlfriend's place (just because the girls checked with one another but not with the mother if she was free).
Haven't been to the gym for a while, and my stamina has probably dropped way down. It'll be tough to run the way I used to.
Went to Zouk but ended up drinking green tea nearby instead of going in for Dimitri from Paris. It was no loss though.

I'm just glad to rest.

Some people think they are worth a lot of money just because they have it.
- Fannie Hurst

A friend has just lost contact with someone overseas. She disappeared overnight just like in a Murakami story, and he hasn't been able to locate her via phone or email. No mailing address, nothing to carry out a search with. She just wiped herself out, and I'm looking at a picture of her wondering where she could be.

Is this how we trace others' whereabouts? From their last login to eBay or Friendster, their last email, their last sms or phone call? Is it really ok if we never see them again?

Downloaded 57 songs. woohoo! Time to shower and snuggle up in bed with a book. :) I like the way the 2nd half of this year has started.

Downloading songs from here. Every song sounds so gorgeous I can purr in contentment.

What was said.
How comparing Windows to UNIX is like comparing Coldplay to Godspeed You Black Emperor! Your fascination with the artwork of Alphonse Mucha and my ignorance of him. How certain traits like obnoxiousness and vanity could be endearing. Pi. The good old days back when we still had BBS. How I met some of my friends and how you met some of yours.

What was not said.
I think I'll be toxic for you if I'm anything but a good friend.