Friday, June 26, 2009
Ripped from Angeline's blog:
1. Google "[your name] needs":
"Samuel Needs a Wife!!!" from getsamuelfullermarried.blogspot.com
*flashback: arranged marriage nightmare from last tuesday*
2. Google "[your name] looks like":
Samuel looks like Liev [and Sasha looks like Naomi]
from a celebrity baby blog
3. Google "[your name] likes":
Samuel likes to run with scissors
from a rather freaky/haunting poem by Ashley Hawkes at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/samuel-likes-to-run-with-scissors/
4. Google "[your name] says":
Samuel says, "split Telstra - accc, functional separation, NBN ..." (yawn)
5. Google "[your name] wants":
Samuel wants Germany
6. Google "[your name] does":
Samuel does cute on Flickr-Photo Sharing!
7. Google "[your name] hates":
Samuel hates this blog
8. Google "[your name] can":
Samuel Can Drive! (video of kid on a kiddy car)
9. Google "[your name] goes":
Samuel Goes to Washington
10. Google "[your name] is":
Samuel is the little engine that could
11. Google "[your name] loves":
Samuel loves to watch mother kneading the dough.
1. Google "[your name] needs":
"Samuel Needs a Wife!!!" from getsamuelfullermarried.blogspot.com
*flashback: arranged marriage nightmare from last tuesday*
2. Google "[your name] looks like":
Samuel looks like Liev [and Sasha looks like Naomi]
from a celebrity baby blog
3. Google "[your name] likes":
Samuel likes to run with scissors
from a rather freaky/haunting poem by Ashley Hawkes at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/samuel-likes-to-run-with-scissors/
4. Google "[your name] says":
Samuel says, "split Telstra - accc, functional separation, NBN ..." (yawn)
5. Google "[your name] wants":
Samuel wants Germany
6. Google "[your name] does":
Samuel does cute on Flickr-Photo Sharing!
7. Google "[your name] hates":
Samuel hates this blog
8. Google "[your name] can":
Samuel Can Drive! (video of kid on a kiddy car)
9. Google "[your name] goes":
Samuel Goes to Washington
10. Google "[your name] is":
Samuel is the little engine that could
11. Google "[your name] loves":
Samuel loves to watch mother kneading the dough.
last day of magic
I decided to start making my mum's birthday cake today. She turns 50something this Sunday, and seeing how I would be fighting the good fight on Sunday with my stack of history notes and a mug of ultra-caffeinated coffee-like liquid in hand, doing something last-minute on the actual day would result in my untimely emotional breakdown.
Of course, my mother being my mother, I had to rule out chocolate-based cakes that would torment the fragile tastebuds that came with age. All signs pointed to The Carrot Cake and its promise of a mass of white gleaming cream cheese frosting. In my food-induced hubris, I decided to make one with two layers with a cream cheese and maple syrup frosting, thinking that the resulting product would be a towering, breathing circle of caramelised-carroty goodness. Of course, the cake did turn out very well.
My sister got a great upper-body workout by just grating the carrots. Not only do I get help disfiguring the "baby" carrots, I get to motivate others by promising calorie offsets!
The cream cheese frosting of sin and depravation. Hunks of cream cheese, butter and sugar. I had to reduce the amount of sugar I put in, but the addition of maple syrup really took the cake (pun intended and hopefully appreciated). I found a $13 bottle of Canadian maple syrup that wasn't just maple-flavoured glucose syrup with caramel colouring. This is the real McCoy but only attainable at the cost of my dignity, because while at the checkout counter, I was short of the full amount by $2 and an auntie behind me had to bail me out of my mini-financial crisis.
Actually, I was really touched and surprised to say the least, because in spite of the problems in the world thoughtlessly left for our generation to solve, someone perhaps affected by the turmoil would still willingly help out a kid who splurged on an expensive bottle of maple syrup. (Oh but it was so worth it.)
In a tragic turn of events, while drying a spatula, my grandmother exclaimed loudly in horror and I turned in time to see her drop the cake while flipping it the other way. Oh well, I'm not angry at all, just disappointed that I couldn't let my 2-layer cake dreams come true. Everyone else, on the other hand, probably appreciates the currant-studded preview which is really just a shadow of what is to come when I finally frost the other unspoiled layer.
And speaking of untimely breakdowns, Farah Fawcett and Michael Jackson have passed on, and I'm saying this as if no one has heard enough of it on Facebook. I never watched Charlie's Angel (oh well, I DID very briefly like that Destiny's Child song in the 00's remake), and I'm apathetic about MJ's songs and will never see him as the king of pop (king of prostheses?), but let us all remember the 30,100 or so children in developing countries who died today from diseases that stemmed from starvation and poor sanitation, who never took a sip of the clean water that we bathe in everyday, let alone live in an air-conditioned Californian dream mansion, who never slept on a comfy bed to snuggle up to their parents or celebrate their 13th birthday without struggling to pull through yet another day. Just to put things in perspective.
Of course, my mother being my mother, I had to rule out chocolate-based cakes that would torment the fragile tastebuds that came with age. All signs pointed to The Carrot Cake and its promise of a mass of white gleaming cream cheese frosting. In my food-induced hubris, I decided to make one with two layers with a cream cheese and maple syrup frosting, thinking that the resulting product would be a towering, breathing circle of caramelised-carroty goodness. Of course, the cake did turn out very well.
My sister got a great upper-body workout by just grating the carrots. Not only do I get help disfiguring the "baby" carrots, I get to motivate others by promising calorie offsets!
The cream cheese frosting of sin and depravation. Hunks of cream cheese, butter and sugar. I had to reduce the amount of sugar I put in, but the addition of maple syrup really took the cake (pun intended and hopefully appreciated). I found a $13 bottle of Canadian maple syrup that wasn't just maple-flavoured glucose syrup with caramel colouring. This is the real McCoy but only attainable at the cost of my dignity, because while at the checkout counter, I was short of the full amount by $2 and an auntie behind me had to bail me out of my mini-financial crisis.
Actually, I was really touched and surprised to say the least, because in spite of the problems in the world thoughtlessly left for our generation to solve, someone perhaps affected by the turmoil would still willingly help out a kid who splurged on an expensive bottle of maple syrup. (Oh but it was so worth it.)
In a tragic turn of events, while drying a spatula, my grandmother exclaimed loudly in horror and I turned in time to see her drop the cake while flipping it the other way. Oh well, I'm not angry at all, just disappointed that I couldn't let my 2-layer cake dreams come true. Everyone else, on the other hand, probably appreciates the currant-studded preview which is really just a shadow of what is to come when I finally frost the other unspoiled layer.
And speaking of untimely breakdowns, Farah Fawcett and Michael Jackson have passed on, and I'm saying this as if no one has heard enough of it on Facebook. I never watched Charlie's Angel (oh well, I DID very briefly like that Destiny's Child song in the 00's remake), and I'm apathetic about MJ's songs and will never see him as the king of pop (king of prostheses?), but let us all remember the 30,100 or so children in developing countries who died today from diseases that stemmed from starvation and poor sanitation, who never took a sip of the clean water that we bathe in everyday, let alone live in an air-conditioned Californian dream mansion, who never slept on a comfy bed to snuggle up to their parents or celebrate their 13th birthday without struggling to pull through yet another day. Just to put things in perspective.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
What I've been doing:
Sometimes, even I surprise myself :)
Brothers' Retreat:
We did a little backpacking around Changi and Ubin and then to Tampines Quarry Park.
I'm such a sucker for sentimentality - after dinner with Mrs Ho, Lucas and the debaters, I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus because the weather was amazing, and because I'll never be in secondary school again flitting between debate and choir and dying the process.
My green tea turned cold after the long chat we had at Ichiban sushi, but in-between swirling the matcha powder that settled to the bottom of the cup and absently sipping my tepid tea, I remembered all the cool and useful information that Mrs Ho often imparted on us during the debate years. Suddenly, Singapore felt more like a village by the sea when compared to the psuedo-adventures that one could have abroad, and once again that desperation to get away to some distant land reared its complaint-spouting head.
Perhaps I've been born and dictated by fate to be a traveler; a sojourner; a Cain for our times. It's not like I have no place to call home, it's just that I think that home can be found almost everywhere and take comfort in that.
*moment of cheese*
Hey but seriously guys, I want to take some time off to get out of the country! It's driving me nuts. The thought of having to spend my days in Singapore for the next few years is giving me neurosis. Feel my desperation.
Anyway, studying in AMK library brought back (surprisingly) fond memories of revising for O levels too, such as going to the toilet and getting distracted by library books along the way. I think the perfect studying place for me would be a transparent cube with a table and chair in the middle of the room that would only release me once I can regurgitate facts sufficiently to let me out, other wise I'll never get anything done.
I'll conclude by saying how irked I am for forgetting to buy cream cheese from the supermarket for the polenta I'm supposed to make.
Sometimes, even I surprise myself :)
Brothers' Retreat:
We did a little backpacking around Changi and Ubin and then to Tampines Quarry Park.
I'm such a sucker for sentimentality - after dinner with Mrs Ho, Lucas and the debaters, I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus because the weather was amazing, and because I'll never be in secondary school again flitting between debate and choir and dying the process.
My green tea turned cold after the long chat we had at Ichiban sushi, but in-between swirling the matcha powder that settled to the bottom of the cup and absently sipping my tepid tea, I remembered all the cool and useful information that Mrs Ho often imparted on us during the debate years. Suddenly, Singapore felt more like a village by the sea when compared to the psuedo-adventures that one could have abroad, and once again that desperation to get away to some distant land reared its complaint-spouting head.
Perhaps I've been born and dictated by fate to be a traveler; a sojourner; a Cain for our times. It's not like I have no place to call home, it's just that I think that home can be found almost everywhere and take comfort in that.
*moment of cheese*
Hey but seriously guys, I want to take some time off to get out of the country! It's driving me nuts. The thought of having to spend my days in Singapore for the next few years is giving me neurosis. Feel my desperation.
Anyway, studying in AMK library brought back (surprisingly) fond memories of revising for O levels too, such as going to the toilet and getting distracted by library books along the way. I think the perfect studying place for me would be a transparent cube with a table and chair in the middle of the room that would only release me once I can regurgitate facts sufficiently to let me out, other wise I'll never get anything done.
I'll conclude by saying how irked I am for forgetting to buy cream cheese from the supermarket for the polenta I'm supposed to make.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Flash of inspiration: will do a poem about menopausal bibiks.
Link
Gonna pack my huge backpack for this week's expedition now!
And the ratatouille came out gorgeous. Zucchinis rawkszszxxszxor<3TTM. Shall make it in event of potluck, with wild mushroom soup and rosemary flatbread.
Little victories aside, I'm thinking of doing a gap year after NS, where I recover from The Madness by backpacking/working at a cool bookshop in the Village/taking a culinary course/doing some travel writing thing, and return home enlightened and rejuvenated for the perils of real life. This would, of course, depend on parental opinion/scholarship requirements/finances and might fall through.
Also, I'm finishing Norwegian Wood soon. Like most Murakami novels, the plot centres around the themes of love and loss. The protagonist, Watanabe, remembers the suicide of his best friend at 17 and leads a promiscuous, emotionally-disconnected, life in the years to follow. Anyway, my point is this - why do teenage characters in the realm of the fictitious exist as happening, independent individuals who lead amazingly exciting lives? Think teenage pregnancy in Juno, saving the planet from certain destruction in Transformers or saving yourself from destruction a la Gossip Girl. And let's not even go into the wildly varied life of Hannah Montana. I'm 17 but all I can say is I've survived flu pandemics and I sometime like to read and go out. Please tell me everyone else is glued to facebook or watching TV too, and not out at Fort Canning playing folk music, or solving a murder or being part of a secret underground counterculture.
In other news, I heard on the grapevine that holidays may be extended given the current H1N1 situation... though MOE still has yet to send out the updates.
Link
Gonna pack my huge backpack for this week's expedition now!
And the ratatouille came out gorgeous. Zucchinis rawkszszxxszxor<3TTM. Shall make it in event of potluck, with wild mushroom soup and rosemary flatbread.
Little victories aside, I'm thinking of doing a gap year after NS, where I recover from The Madness by backpacking/working at a cool bookshop in the Village/taking a culinary course/doing some travel writing thing, and return home enlightened and rejuvenated for the perils of real life. This would, of course, depend on parental opinion/scholarship requirements/finances and might fall through.
Also, I'm finishing Norwegian Wood soon. Like most Murakami novels, the plot centres around the themes of love and loss. The protagonist, Watanabe, remembers the suicide of his best friend at 17 and leads a promiscuous, emotionally-disconnected, life in the years to follow. Anyway, my point is this - why do teenage characters in the realm of the fictitious exist as happening, independent individuals who lead amazingly exciting lives? Think teenage pregnancy in Juno, saving the planet from certain destruction in Transformers or saving yourself from destruction a la Gossip Girl. And let's not even go into the wildly varied life of Hannah Montana. I'm 17 but all I can say is I've survived flu pandemics and I sometime like to read and go out. Please tell me everyone else is glued to facebook or watching TV too, and not out at Fort Canning playing folk music, or solving a murder or being part of a secret underground counterculture.
In other news, I heard on the grapevine that holidays may be extended given the current H1N1 situation... though MOE still has yet to send out the updates.
Monday, June 15, 2009
dear shadow
What I've been up to:
Made a yummy rustic butternut and onion galette for fathers' day; having tea at an izakaya place in suntec city; outing to old ford factory.
Brothers' retreat is in 3 days'! I've been worrying about it for the past few weeks now. But sometimes it's only through challenges like this when one has to learn to trust God even more again.
Made a yummy rustic butternut and onion galette for fathers' day; having tea at an izakaya place in suntec city; outing to old ford factory.
Brothers' retreat is in 3 days'! I've been worrying about it for the past few weeks now. But sometimes it's only through challenges like this when one has to learn to trust God even more again.
Friday, June 12, 2009
the apparent existence of everyone at the same time
Today was fun. There was playmax and the debaters came, and I've finally bought a new wallet and bag.
Anyway, you know what? I'm gonna use my humanities scholarship to buy expensive 7 For All Mankind jeans because I'm such a rebel wow.
Or maybe not.
I actually thought I could muster enough energy to get all pending tasks done by today (send emails that should have been sent weeks ago, check on things that I should be checking on more often), but I can't find the zen in accepting defeat to a malignant and omnipresent to-do list.
Coupled with the fact that I'm losing patience with many things at home that I'm still trying to love and accept, I think the dark ages have descended upon me and will continue to cramp my sense of being. And perhaps I shall go mad.
And like every single time this happens I'm trying to find God in the darkness again, but sometimes it feels little more than a momentary high before everything starts overwhelming me again. Maybe I'm just of very little faith, and would like to think so too. It's that often talked-about struggle that people mention all the time, but then again, doesn't life propel itself through a cycle of struggling and healing?
Anyway I'm glad to feel as if I'm back home again. No one will ever understand how much I loathe Bedok.
Plus, something in my nose has been bleeding for the past week. I hope it's nothing too serious.
And I can't seem to point out what it is, but I'm reminded of Miss Havisham.
Anyway, you know what? I'm gonna use my humanities scholarship to buy expensive 7 For All Mankind jeans because I'm such a rebel wow.
Or maybe not.
I actually thought I could muster enough energy to get all pending tasks done by today (send emails that should have been sent weeks ago, check on things that I should be checking on more often), but I can't find the zen in accepting defeat to a malignant and omnipresent to-do list.
Coupled with the fact that I'm losing patience with many things at home that I'm still trying to love and accept, I think the dark ages have descended upon me and will continue to cramp my sense of being. And perhaps I shall go mad.
And like every single time this happens I'm trying to find God in the darkness again, but sometimes it feels little more than a momentary high before everything starts overwhelming me again. Maybe I'm just of very little faith, and would like to think so too. It's that often talked-about struggle that people mention all the time, but then again, doesn't life propel itself through a cycle of struggling and healing?
Anyway I'm glad to feel as if I'm back home again. No one will ever understand how much I loathe Bedok.
Plus, something in my nose has been bleeding for the past week. I hope it's nothing too serious.
And I can't seem to point out what it is, but I'm reminded of Miss Havisham.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
As a last-ditch attempt to rid myself of the mid-holiday doldrums...
I've decided to go vegetarian!
I'm so bored because the holidays are in no way different from the maddening rut of term time, and the sovereignty of scheduling my time around that I enjoyed when I was younger can only be yearned for now that I'm being prepped for life in the cesspool that is the 21st century.
I need to introduce change because honestly I'm really desperate to enjoy what's left of my June holidays after being mauled, ripped to shreds and disfigured by time-hungry megalomaniacs.
Tomorrow, I will emerge meat-free and prance guiltlessly among the factory-farmed chickens, righteously tut-tutting the dozens of unenlightened ones still pigging out on KFC and tubes of badly-made potato chips! Suddenly the world seems like a much better place to be in!
(Although after mentioning KFC, I now have a slight teeny-weenie mini craving for Original fried chicken.)
I've decided to go vegetarian!
I'm so bored because the holidays are in no way different from the maddening rut of term time, and the sovereignty of scheduling my time around that I enjoyed when I was younger can only be yearned for now that I'm being prepped for life in the cesspool that is the 21st century.
I need to introduce change because honestly I'm really desperate to enjoy what's left of my June holidays after being mauled, ripped to shreds and disfigured by time-hungry megalomaniacs.
Tomorrow, I will emerge meat-free and prance guiltlessly among the factory-farmed chickens, righteously tut-tutting the dozens of unenlightened ones still pigging out on KFC and tubes of badly-made potato chips! Suddenly the world seems like a much better place to be in!
(Although after mentioning KFC, I now have a slight teeny-weenie mini craving for Original fried chicken.)
Sunday, June 07, 2009
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