Unbalanced Vision

Hello, everybody. This is S. I am writing a guest entry for Rachel so that she will go and make me popcorn. However, Rachel tends to welch on her promises, so I suspect that after writing this, I will not get any popcorn at all. Courtney taught us a new technique today. If you're lying, you tend to look right, and if you're telling the truth or recalling something from your memory, you tend to look left. This works for me and Courtney, and most normal people, but Rachel seems to always look right, no matter what she says. The repercussions of this for her blog are obvious. Take everything she says with a grain of salt. In fact, this may not be S at all. It may be Rachel masquerading as me.

Showman David Blaine has become the talk of the town. It's nothing spectacular really, just that everyone is talking about it and you feel the need to participate in his event. So weeks ago me and HY were bored enough to pay homage to the man in the glass box over Thames. A small crowd was there already, some were yelling out his name to get Blaine's attention, others were simply looking. Well, that's the much milder sort. We've got people throwing eggs and smelly fish before. So what can he possibly do up there? I saw him reading a book, picking his nose, whilst cuddling up in his grubby blanket--nothing special. Friend Pepe actually got the chance to see him pee, a silky flow of liquid draining down from the sky, not something of divine taste. HY forwarded me a picture of Blaine jerking off, but that's a different story. Anyways, many others, like me, were taking photos. However, cell phone cameras seem to be the in thing. It was a windy day and we left shortly, waited till HY went to his lecture.

Opera browser has crashed again, though this time the fault is solely on my part. For some stupid reason I downloaded it twice, thinking that a newer version has came out. Equally annoying is that I'd have to reorganise the big collection of urls, which will take ages to sort out. Also noticed that our mini washing machine is constantly running, the second electrical appliance in the flat being on most of the time. The first place goes to the TV set, of course. You throw in two pair of jeans and it's full; you press the button, and it takes a moment to whirr into action. Maybe this is a Europe thing? Little E says the one at home, you dump in suitcases of clothing, and after 15-20 minutes or so, they come out crispy clean.

Our broadband is activated, yeah! I shall never leave the room. Though it is certainly not as speedy as dorm Internet, but better than nothing right? Another happy thing is that my Kazaa finally works. The flat is now in complete silence, only with the sounds of fingertips gently typing away. We now do not have to see each other, me, S and little E; our communication will be conducted through MSN.

The snail speed service of BT broadband will be activated on 22nd September, and that is a VERY long time. If next Monday I'm not happily sitting inside my room using the Internet, I will be VERY pissed. Also still not sure if COMPAQ will fix my laptop for free, can't they just decide right now!? And there's more than one month before the exam results come out... I am one person who hates to wait.

Gosh, I miss household Internet. I also dislike Compaq Presario 1500 laptops.

Occasionally people ask me DO YOU WANT TO GO HOME? Or DO YOU MISS HOME/YOUR FRIENDS? WHEN ARE YOU COMING BACK? WHY DON'T YOU GO HOME? etc. Yes, to the questions above, and missing home and friends very much indeed. However, at the same time I have this sick desire of wanting to know how it feels like to be away for a long, long time. It is the idea of juxtaposing familiarity and strangeness--what was familiar becomes strange, or what was strange becomes familiar. I want to build up the tension and excitement, since the stay is prolonged and this one fly back becomes remarkably precious. Hehe, reminds me of this Chinese verse:

少小離家老大回
鄉音無改鬢毛衰
兒童相見不相識
笑問客從何處來？

However, this is not about making a record. Being flexible with future plans, who knows, I might take off tomorrow?

In my Bible, Sabbath Day is a day for recreational pleasure, hence went to see American Pie 3 with HY's little cousin F. Ain't American Pie one of the best trilogy movies ever!? Hehe, maybe comparable to The Godfather or LotR? If its true value is to present happy-go-lucky, heart-warming, home-binding Americanness, then the film has succeeded in that attempt. Afterwards joined HY and D to have supper at Little Bay. Initially, the conversation focused on the benefits of having rich girlfriends or well-off parents. I forgot what the conclusion was, or if there was one at all, but the most enlightening thought was 'not to be a middle class'--the types that have to work hard for money, who live in suburbs with white picket fences around their houses. Funny, I'd always thought that being a middle class was something to be proud of? The substantial strength in society, raising issues against the 'nobles'? No no no, today's youth want more than that.

E, S and I got keys to our new den--it's very exciting! The place is within walking distance to the BL and UCL, and leads straight down to Tottenham Court Road. Inside, it is basically equipped with all mod cons, yet any kind, generous heart who would like to sponsor a tumble dryer and broadband connection is much appreciated. Out of the chaotic mess, S and I romantically attached some fairy lights to the ceilings.

So I presume tonight's the last time we can take advantage of UCL's dormitory Internet facilities. For a school as stingy as this one is, I thought they'd shut down the connection once the clock strikes twelve. However, it appears that I can still claim my presence in cyber space.
Last week I went to see the Earth from the Air photo exhibition just outside the Natural History Museum. The pictures were awesome--the beauty of multiplicity viewed from a height. However, they were not displayed purely as 'art for art's sake'. You could either run around on the gigantic map of the world carpet, or learn little facts about our Earth--numbers that talk, that should strike your consciousness. I occasionally remember to recycle and do my part for Mother Earth, yet such pictures do not make me venture into rain forests and safe trees and stuff. Maybe I should start by switching off the lights in my room.

In contrast to the much praised pictures, dino's footsteps were totally neglected, like footprints on the sand ready to be washed away. I recall myself absolutely amazed by these steps at the age of 7, and had a photo taken with me sitting on the iron bars. You can believe anything at that age; now they just resemble any plain looking pavement.

During the jog this morning, I passed by a store namely the Bloomsbury Book Auctions. According to its posters, a 1997 first edition hard back Harry Potter can sell up to 19450 pounds, if I didn't get the information wrong. Don't we have a collection at home? Dad, sell the damn thing now.

May I just say Onken BioPot yogurt is one of God's heavenly creation for our residing mortal souls. I've tasted every favour, except for the Rhubarb and Vanilla one. What the heck is a Rhubarb anyways? They also sell those that come in buckets at Sainsbury's, which is pretty cool--imagining yourself swimming in gallons of strawberry yogurt. I'd thought with a larger container it would take me longer to finish, yet I was wrong. This morning I'm having summer berries.

Someone described the content of this book to me, and by merely glancing at the usual hyperbole of the blurb, dunno why, I regard this a phoney creation. Half a month ago they have also announced the Booker long list, and it appears that Amis' Yellow Dog is receiving unfair landslide attention. All is exciting in Autumn, the season of publications and awards. Yet paper is dear and reading speed is slow; in the end one can just settle for the reviews.

As a passport holder of some island floating off the east coast of China, I sincerely doubt that this will make any major difference. For based upon personal experience, an utterance of the word may lead to misassumptions that you are from Thailand or China. Should this be a resulting ignorance of the questioner's part, there is room for discussion. It was only until last week skimming through books about circumnavigations that I realised where the Cape of Good Hope is located. Neither is this a place that boasts worldly renowned epic landscapes, nor a showcase for Chinese classical antiquity. I suppose at some point I do like the idea of presenting a passport of a powerful nation, had not my parents turned down the sweet offer. If that helps you save 15 minutes at the customs or maybe some additional respect, then why not? I do not abhor the idea of China embracing its misbehaved adolescent, in fact, I find it rather amusing for some Taiwanese getting irritated by this inclusion. The more they feel belittled, the more they pronounce their identity. And the mentality behind this gesture, I presume, is a self-conscious awareness that it perhaps has nothing to be proud of. In turn leading to immigration frenzy or a blind imitation of foreignness. This does not mean that I am against living in other countries, because anyone has the freedom to choose their ideal surroundings. However, I think the islanders are a long way away from enjoying the art of self-mockery. Only the strong ones are comfortable to examine their faults, laugh at themselves at ease. What we need to get rid of is the slight tone of sourness, or out of place advertisements. This is certainly not a pivotal concept in constructing a nationhood. Thankfully, our images and views of others are fluid. There's the year 2008, of course, and I vision three places presenting the best but also tackling their problems critically and humorously.

Post-essay room always prompts a cleaning, because dust and piles of paper gradually become features of your one bedroom landscape. So far am pretty satisfied with what the washing machine, tumble dryer and Mr. Iron have done to my laundry; however, still have more to do before I move out next week.

It's Friday:
1. What housekeeping chore(s) do you hate doing the most?
Washing tea cups and mugs. I'm notorious for leaving used cups on the desk and never bother to wash them.
2. Are there any that you like or don't mind doing?
Ironing and later folding shirts up like it's brand new.
3. Do you have a routine throughout the week or just clean as it's needed?
Sounds pathetic to have a tidying up routine.
4. Do you have any odd cleaning/housekeeping quirks or rules?
Nope, not any I can think of at the moment.
5. What was the last thing you cleaned?
The shower drain, which is superlatively yucky.

'Tis strange that I met up with an elementary school classmate, Vicky, yesterday. I haven't seen her for like 12 years and now we are actually sitting in Soho, London having lunch together. For what's a school reunion if you don't share info. on the once naughty/childish/cute little boys in class? Some random names that never occurred to me for like a decade naturally popped up in our conversation. The best news I can provide is that L is currently working as a bodyguard for former TWN VP, hehe--spotted at the same health club as mum and dad. Even stranger still was the dish I ordered. Clearly remembered that it was haddock and spinach, but there were only sights of spinach here and there, two bites of haddock, then that's it. Instead, as you dig into the spongy yellowy rice, you shall find three white eggs (like dinosaur eggs) in them. Quite odd.

Temperature is falling and you can feel it in the air. It's obvious in the mornings when the instant chill reminds you to slip into something warmer. Having stayed indoors for most of August, I did not realise that summer had quietly left the kitchen. And whilst working my guts out for the past few months, this view (the entrance to my dorm) occasionally suggested depression--a rather beautiful depressing sight. I've always adored cold weathers better; it makes you feel calmed, introspective, concentrated, and maybe unexpected surprises could happen.

This afternoon went to see the highly praised PotC with HY, and indeed it did not let me down. Action and excitement was non-stop, soundtrack was not special but appropriate, monkey was disgusting, chick was courageous (nowadays you don't see those 70s Diane Keaton types in Annie Hall anymore), Orlando Bloom was just unsurprisingly yum, even the lame Royal Navy and nobles were cute. In general, all's good. Yet methinks the highlight was Johnny Depp, for his character was unpredictable and witty--though his opening scene was considered a bit tacky. You see, a man can't just have good looks.

"I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest... honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid".
Captain Jack Sparrow

K is babysitting a well-behaved tv set; however, this in turn has not made the girl so well-behaved for currently she is related to something called a couch potato. I, too, can be addicted if there was one sitting in my room. Anyways, just watched this awesome trashy Jerry Springer show--seriously concentrated for the first time. The first half was this pair of weedy twins, and the chubby lady whose married to one, and going out with the other. Then in comes the chubby lady's mum, who's quite a dark, dramatic character herself. I'm bewildered on how the problem got solved, but somehow the chubby lady chose to stay with her husband's brother. The second half was this pathetic lady who wrote a poem and brought over a ring to propose to her ex. K's tip of the day: Girls should never propose to guys. The show has some educational value you know, because I learned:
1) All females are horizontally challenged and like to wear loud red clothing.
2) I haven't spotted any yet, but K says all men have bad teeth.
3) Whether it's telling us that ugly people generally lead lousy lives or not I cannot figure it out yet.

Letting 20 year olds running around the island by themselves is not a wise idea. Have not seen lil' brother Ali (dork on the left) for almost an year, and judging from this photo he sure needs to get a haircut.