368: youth’s elixir fills our veins

357: a sure simple way to reach you

Though you know, some things don’t really change, …

 

352: vienna waits for you

348: they come, they come, to build a wall between us

(You know that they won’t win,)

Berlin is a wonderful place. For everyone who has been there, they will know what I mean. There’s nothing quite like Berlin, which continually surprises you and makes your heart stop at every turn. Berlin is a city where contradictions fly into each other and crash spectacularly. Next to a piece of history there is the unmistakable odour of youth. The crash and bang of paint and art hurls itself against unwanted buildings, forgotten roads, new life creeping into dead parts of cities. Slowly but surely the city is being preserved, sterilised against time, for a past they refuse to forget. And yet history is made relevant in the most startling of ways, through new life, new art, new ideas. Fresh ideas that refuse to be forgotten, old ideas that refuse to be erased. We cannot forget, and so we must remember. 

344: singing my life with his words

Strange how the time flies; suddenly I’m back in school again, lessons are starting up, and as usual, I’m all happy and raring to go. It’s good to be back in Holland, which is slowly but surely beginning to feel familiar. Still, home is where the heart is, and sometimes I think that it’s not so much the country but the fact that I can come home to my own room, my own life and space, and just do my own thing. Travelling is fun, and so is meeting up with people, but sometimes all you need is time to yourself. I have always treasured having my own life, and now more than ever, I feel like I’m getting myself back again.

339: remember 2008

The year has been eventful, to say the least. I ushered in the new year at the beginning of the year (last year, now) in a variety of circumstances; every year with the Hwa Chong people, screaming “Happy New Year” at the top of our voices around the swimming pool, and then drinking Raffles beer at the front of Block B, our cars parked in a perfect straight line along the parallel parking lots. I was wearing a red dress, I remember, and the rest were happy and drunken.

335: she’ll take a tumble on you

The semester is almost over. As usual one is struck by how fast time flies, and the way in which it has flown. People have already gone home, to wherever they came from, and one recalls the tears that I find myself unable to shed. Maybe it was because I was not the one leaving; maybe I did not have sufficient connections with these people. There were lovely people, people I wish I’d known better were I not caught up in my own drama, but three months and meaningful friendships are hard to sustain. One is aware that this is not an excuse and that I could have, if I tried, or bothered to try. That being said, maybe next semester will be different, and one can always hope for the best. Making new friends, sustaining them, remembering why I am here in the first place, living for myself. The world is now and forever waiting for me to explore it. For once I will try not to be defeated by my own inaction. 

315: almost, but not quite

Traipsing around Italy pretending to be fashionistas on our limited budget. We were on our way to Prada.

 

313: i swam across, i jumped across for you

So. Last weekend we went to Utrecht, with 5 other people from various countries. We met up with Gary, Zhiming and Crystal, who’d just arrived that week. It was lots and lots of fun. Utrecht is a beautiful old city, and because it was really the first of stereotypical Netherlands that we saw, it was great. There are lots of canals, boats, people cycling… 

I almost didn’t go, though, because I didn’t eat breakfast and we were late, so we cycled hard and fast to the train station. Then I felt really dizzy and couldn’t walk straight, and ended up sitting down on the floor after awhile and eventually missed our scheduled train. We did manage to get on one 20 minutes later, after Val forced chocolate down my throat, but I still felt queasy till we actually got to Utrecht and ate some breakfast. Hmm.

309: see your shoes and your spirits rise

Before we all know it, I’ve been here for more than a week. Over these few days there have been so many happenings, so many parties, so many exciting things to tell. From the first week of meeting new people and crazy random parties with lots and lots (and lots) of drinking, to cooking totally random food in the kitchen, we’ve also changed our housemate. He used to be an American who smoked weed all day and stayed on the top floor, but he moved out because of the rent and now we have a new Iranian housemate whose wife is coming to stay with him starting sometime this week. He is also Muslim, so we are having to deal with all this at one go. 

307: all your stereotypes

Americans are noisy, Spanish girls are hot, Japanese guys are super hot, the Germans think Erdinger is good shit, the Chinese are fucking everywhere, and omg. OH MY GOD.

HOLLAND FUCKING SMELLS OF WEED.

(OK. That was my update. Other than that orientation’s been fun. But there is so much alcohol, and especially when it costs 1-2 euros a pint, everybody drinks like crazy. At orientation functions beer is FREE, and it’s pretty good beer, the pubs are everywhere, people are happy, and omg the weed. Today there was an impromptu party at the hostels near the university, so everyone went down to the lawn and brought down couches and like 5 cases of beer and a couple of bottles of wine. So many people turned up, from everywhere, and it was so good talking to everyone. The weather was great and it wasn’t cold at all, we were warm from the alcohol and talking so much nonsense, and Sharm has just stumbled off to bed. On the bad side it cost us $20 (11 euros) for a cab ride. Yesterday there was a welcome drink in the city centre and everyone was just. Drinking. And drinking. And drinking again. Tomorrow there is another party. Everyone is crazy and high and it is kind of funny listening to them talk. My liver is fucking going to die.)

303: japan: dancing in tokyo

So – here is the last part. We spent three nights in Tokyo, but it was effectively two and half days left because we flew off in the morning. Less words before the cut now because there is just so much more to see in pictures.

296: japan: kyoto contradictions

Some think Kyoto is all quaint shops and beauty. It is, but there’s so much more than that. Maybe it’s because it’s the old capital. Nowhere else do you feel the contradictions more strongly: time-honored tradition living next to modern amenities; something as mundane as seeing two geisha clad in kimono walking next to a taxi. The men who frequent Gion have changed their clothes as the times pass, yet till now it is the wealthy businessmen who look to entertain and be entertained, in their dapper, dreary business suits, that sing and laugh with geisha in the comfort of the teahouses overlooking the river. Not everything Arthur Golden says is true, but it’s not all false either. As tourists throng to the temples frantically snapping away with their cameras, there remains the crowd of people that stays the same, going back to the temple year after year, month after month, praying for this or that. The wooden plaques always say the same things; human nature changes very little. Many things have changed, but there is still hope. 

Here, young girls still guide their hopeful friends, hands clasped and eyes closed, towards the sunshine and in search of love.

293: japan: osaka city riots

18- 21 May.

So, finally, here is Osaka. Most of what they say about Osaka is totally true. It’s a merchant town, and it’s filled with people who love food, love being happy, love being loud and funny and living life. It’s kind of like being Hokkien on crack. Being Japanese, they’re naturally polite, and really really willing to help. They’re the sort of people that, when you are standing alone on the train platform surrounded by your luggage, an elderly lady will totter over to you asking, 大丈夫か？ (Are you all right?). At this point most of what you can say merely consists of ああ、はい (Ah, yes) which is really rude now that I think about it. Yet the same elderly lady, when getting onto the train, will fight you tooth and nail to get in and give you a not-so-friendly push if you dawdle too long at the entrance. Osaka people are always hurrying everywhere; not in the same way as Tokyo or the big cities, where everyone needs to look like they have something very important to do. Here it is pure unadulterated rush. 

We spent four days in Osaka, and they were a good four days. We visited temples and parks, castles, got lost, did lots of shopping, checked out Kennedy’s wildly expensive t-shirts, gawked at more wildly expensive merchandise, ate and walked, and ate, and ate non-stop. 

289: japan: yokohama city lights

It’s early in the morning now, and as usual, I can’t sleep. The sky is red and you know what they say about red skies in the morning and red skies at night. Tonight the moon is full, as it was last night, but tonight the moon hung low behind the tree outside my house and I had to look harder to find it. It’s just like most things, which disappear without you noticing in the hope you’ll look ever harder for them. 

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This post is about Yokohama, with which I think I might have a special love affair. This is not to say that I didn’t love all the other cities I went to, but that they mean different things to me. Tokyo is the place of childhood and dreams, mainly because I went there so many times when I was younger, though as you grow older you discover its ever-increasing adult attractions. Osaka was all about food and relaxation and just generally having fun doing everything and nothing. Kyoto was full of history, but Yokohama…

Yokohama is full of lights and romance. Yokohama is the place you bring girls to when you want to impress them. It doesn’t seem like much because it’s so near Tokyo and it’s so easy to overlook, but it retains that particular, off-centre, sort of feeling. It’s near but not too near. It has its own voice, its own attractions, its own history. Some people say Chinatown wasn’t too interesting; sometimes you just need to know where to look. Stepping into Minato Mirai is fascinating precisely because we’re at an age where we can appreciate it, still: the free theme parks, ferris wheels, lights across the sea, the red brick warehouses and the smoke curling up from beneath the windows. It seriously is the number one place to bring a girl on a date. It is so romantic you can choke. 

288: japan: tokyo story

Erm. I’m sorry this took so long, but there were really a lot of pictures. 

283: the magical mystery tour

It was, you know. It was magical. 

I will probably post the photos by city, in parts, because there are too many and I love all the pictures. Of which I have 1377. Excluding the ones I had to take on my phone because my camera battery died (e.g. the entire night parade in Disneyland, which I am very annoyed about). After two weeks it was not that I didn’t mind going home, but it was also because I knew I wouldn’t be back for at least another few years. That was a depressing thought, but it was, and is always, such a magical country. There are so many thoughts I cannot articulate it all. It will be done, though, slowly but eventually.

282: 写真を撮って、いいですか？

Just a quick post: in Yokohama now, heading to Osaka tomorrow morning.

Everybody loves Japan, yes? I am no exception. I wish I could stay here forever, but we all know that’s not possible. However I thoroughly indulged my fangirl self ogling cute boys everywhere (and the girls are so pretty) including random Kanjani8 Nissin Cup Noodle advertisements in the subway, caved in and bought two KAT-TUN DVDs (haha did you know Johnny’s Entertainment has their own separate section in HMV?) and a magazine (the one where the photo below appears) while my boyfriend dragged me all across Harajuku and Shibuya shopping and looking for his weird obscure underground shops. Oh, and he bought about half of Uniqlo as well. Also, I have overheard more conversations about the merits of Akanishi vs Kamenashi vs random Japanese celebrity from girls with their boyfriends than I can count. Starbucks is freaking everywhere.

Today was good: Yokohama is a pretty place. Pictures when I come back; the night lights are beautiful. I’ve also sat more rollercoasters than I can count, including the ones in Disneyland (the parade was magical omg, but I got sunburnt haha) and some random super drop rollercoaster in Yokohama today, in a free theme park no less!

Lots of food. Ate orgasmic sushi at Tsukiji it’s like food porn. Really can die.　And my Japanese is super bad it’s so embarrassing.

More when I get internet again.

280: just like a graham greene novel

All this hate and love; it’s soft, it’s hooey.
There’s only things, Blackie.

 

 

230: your life is your life

Hmm. My current obsession — one that may last very long — shift dresses. Even though I’ve gained a fair bit of weight over the past year (woe) so that now my body is no longer what it used to look like, I have decided that even then, shift dresses can be flattering on not-flat-chested people.

Is it strange to mourn the loss of your flat(ter) chest? I always thought having bigger boobs looked sort of vulgar, for some reason. And I like the adolescence and androgyny that being flat-chested confers. (This was probably not appropriate public conversation, but who cares) In the meantime while I’m trying to lose weight, let’s make the best of it!

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Went on a pretend-holiday with my mum yesterday. Booked a room at a hotel for a night, and lived utterly decadently. We had lunch at Pontini yesterday before checking in, and after dumping our stuff headed to town and went shopping. In lieu of no holiday, my mum gave me money to spend. Which was a good deal (: We bumbled around, looked at wildly expensive things, my mother dreaming about the day when she could stop buying me things and I’d buy them for her (haha), drinking bubble tea and being totally random. And when we got back, we stopped by 7/11 like we would in any other country for drinks before going up to the hotel. Then my mum decided that since the tea and coffee were complimentary, she’d drink them like a typical Singaporean (her words, not mine), and she couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

Some bad movie about Chinese Americans was playing on Star Movies, while I read half a history book. I think there is something very fascinating about the French Revolution, even though the French still really annoy me sometimes, which is why unknowingly I suddenly have about 5 books on the subject, excluding that hugeass Oxford History of the French Revolution I bought in JC (Sad that I only read it properly after I finished my A-Levels; before that I just read the concluding chapter and winged it haha).

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After I checked out this afternoon, the bf came over and we went to Haji Lane. I picked up a shift dress which I’m intending to wear for my family’s Christmas party (part Yay and part Awkward, for reasons exclusive to the recent past), and a vintage kimono, which I’m intending to dry clean then send to a tailor to convert into a dress. I feel sort of sad chopping off almost half the length of it, because I love the detail at the hem, but there are two little holes at the bottom (which was why it was cheaper) so I’ll find something for it. Maybe the obi.

The shopkeeper showed me all the old family kimono, the black formal ones with family crests at the chest and intricate embroidery at the bottom. They were beautiful, and old, and I would have liked to buy them, but they didn’t suit my purpose (and they were expensive). And it would be sacrilegious to hack an old family kimono to turn it into a fashion item. Some of them were really lovely, especially those for a young woman’s 20th birthday, a formal celebratory occasion in Japan. I’ve got my eye set on one — I’ll see how the tailoring goes with this one, first.

It might even be ready to wear for Chinese New Year! (:

I like all these random DIY projects.

So, um, any recommendations for a good tailor (not just one who does alterations)?

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I haven’t filled in my exchange application form yet!!! There are 2 more days. Argh.

226: i need some intelligentactile 101

When I first thought about the holidays coming I thought of all sorts of things to do. But it never fails to surprise me how much I’ve missed and failed to take in while I was holed up in school.

Today I went out alone again. I wasn’t intending to, since I was supposed to meet someone, but my phone (un?)fortuituously went dead and I decided to spend my Saturday alone after lunch. Sometimes I feel sad that he’s not here, but most of the time I quite enjoy it. It reminds me of what I used to do when I was single, and had all the time in the world to myself, without thinking about rushing off to meet the bf whenever. It’s not a bad thing — being attached — alot of the time I wanted to run away and go meet him, but there’s something. About solitude.

I’ve always liked big cities. My cousin-in-law asked me which city in Europe was my favourite, and not having been to many, I said London. I wasn’t lying, since I was prepared to spend 3 years there anyway. And I said, yes, the bigger and more crowded, the better. (Only after I said it did I realise the contradiction, because I’d just professed my hatred of Zoukout merely 10 minutes earlier because it was too crowded and squeezy — and drunk) My cousin said bodies pressing against each other are not her thing, and I thought back to the MTR in Hong Kong during peak hour.

I remembered I hated it, but I was glad to finally have a chance to push someone without getting my head bitten off, since no one would know who it was anyway. There was that freedom, that anonymity, to do things you ordinarily would never get away with, to lose yourself in a big city. Of course I’m talking about more than just pushing random commuters around in a train. But you understand.

So — I read No Reservations in Kino today, after buying a pair of shoes and reading half a Christmas story (like Good Omens, only worse, so I stopped) in Borders. And yet another trashy romance novel. In what seems to be the greatest irony ever, I read the first romance (few days ago) in the corner of the Parenting section, which looked like a fairly promising place to read, but turned out to be full of random people. Who are younger than I am and not supposed to be old enough to need advice on parenting. (No comment.) Then I read the second one in the Children’s section in Kino — after No Reservations — on a bench, where I happened to find a seat, although I had to share it with an overly excited expecting couple who were cooing over baby names from a book.

Parenting and Children. Are my maternal instincts subconsciously taking over?

The woman was cooing, anyway, while her husband continually objected to every single name she picked out till she got fed up. Maybe it was the bad pronunciation. Imagine if the Registrar of Births got your name wrong because your mother couldn’t pronounce your name. Worse still, she’d be able to spell it correctly. And the Registrar will try valiantly not to laugh.

“Bree?

“Eee like cheese like that.

“Britchet!

“Dowan! Sounds like Bridge.

“I know I know! Clo!

“You mean like Chloe?

“Yeah! Clo!

“No dear, it’s Chloe.”

At this point I felt a family disaster crawl slowly but surely towards the backs of the unsuspecting couple. Luckily they left, so I could stop eavesdropping on other people and concentrate on my own book. But really. Clo?

Well. There were other things I noticed, like the inordinate amount of people snapping pictures with the Takashimaya Christmas tree. And a girl I saw walking down Wisma wearing a sports top and shorts with a Deuter backpack and really high wedges. Dressy wedges. Really high dressy wedges with jingly-jangly things hanging off the straps. Wish I’d taken a picture.

City life. Great innit?

171: city of blinding lights, a city lit by fireflies

so you take a little trip down to town and find that nothing much has changed except the christmas decorations, although those at peninsula hotel always seem to have that extra sense of class, that magical feeling, those yellow stars. the neon lights draw you in, there are side alleys that lead off into darkness, into people sitting on wheelchairs begging for money, into unbidden surprises. one thing about hong kong is that appearances can be deceiving. walk into a shop and take the stairs down and suddenly a space becomes ten times bigger than it turns out to be. flowers are fake. a massage centre is really a pornographic wonder. there are stars on breasts, there are porn theatres, advertisements flashing out in neon colours that blind your eyes and are a grandiose swirl of colour. such nuances cannot be accurately portrayed by words nor by the unsteady hand of a camera. one day i’m going to go back into lan kwai fong and see the other side of hong kong, away from midnight curfews and parents’ prying eyes. it’ll be lovely. there’ll be lights.

*

164: thoughts on malacca

road trippin’ with my two favourite allies
fully loaded we got snacks and supplies
it’s time to leave this town
it’s time to steal away
let’s go get lost

you can always count on old cities to give you a surprise. round the corners of shops and down the streets something new always lurks behind peeling paint, behind doors that creak and rusty barriers guarding five-foot-ways. the erstwhile traveller eschews a taxi, the bus rattling and groaning like a tin can, falling apart with the weight of holding a frightfully modern airconditioning unit in its body, while we quaintly troop to the front to throw our bus fare (RM1) into a cardboard box next to the bus conductor. the tickets for our coach back to singapore are handwritten. i still cannot figure out whether the boss is local or not. five of us settle at the rear of the bus, the back of its seats scrawled with familiar promises (“aidil + nurul = 4eva”) that have probably been broken by now, numbers to call that lead to nowhere (“for good time, call: _____”) and swear words that have no purpose being there, other than to prove a point (“because i can,” he said). a girl shyly eyes kwek from the corner of her eyes; as usual, he is oblivious, but the rest of us notice because there is nothing better to do. we laugh. the bus moves on. the gutted remains of a house continues to stew in the hot sun without us noticing.

159: i wanna go on permanent vacation

it’s been awhile!

i’m still stuck in bangkok, the bf has just reached the airport, my mum is cooking lunch for me now after i’ve just gone swimming in the pool. this past week we’ve gone shopping (but we didn’t sight-see, again), eaten LOTS and LOTS, and had lots of fun. good clean family fun!

noteworthy discoveries;