Thursday, October 06, 2011

The man and his ideas

Dear Jobs,
I am commemorating your passing in the only way I know how. I am waiting for the library to open so that I may borrow a book on Apple and since Apple = you, I know I will get my fix of you yet. When I was in middle school, I asked to get an iPod for my birthday. I didn't get that. When I was getting a new laptop, I asked to get an Air. I didn't get that either. On occasions I use the iPhone. The only whole Apple product I use most (minus whatever patents held) is iTunes, and that's for iTunes U. You can tell I don't belong to the cult of Apple. And since Apple = you, I don't belong to the cult of Jobs.
I was stunned when I learnt about Pixar, but frankly I still didn't think you were that great. Well, you were dishy in your youth, that's it.
I use my Android proudly. Yet when I am asked by someone if (s)he should get an iPhone or Android, of late I have kept silent, especially when it is someone I care. The iPhone remains an accessory of style.
When, and if, published, this post will join millions in their remembrance of you. You will be vilified in circles, for that's how life goes. Your legacy will fade slightly; my brother's generation grew up with computers, digital music players, animated graphics. But he will know the difference when he picks up a Mac. (I am told.) He certainly likes the iPad enough.
What have I to hold of you? Me, who has never stepped into your reality distortion field? Nothing but the circumstance of your birth, your black turtleneck + Levi's jeans, your dropping out of Reed and staying on anyway, your experimentations (I once won a short argument with a friend on how drugs ARE evil), your relationships, your devotion to quality and the whole experience, your very public endorsement that Art goes everywhere and your ability to get what you want.
Yours,

Saturday, April 09, 2011

Trapped specimen

Hug me, and I will cuddle up to you
Gimme a kiss, and I will plant plenty more where you like them
Loosen a button, and I will help you with the rest

Sunday, April 03, 2011

just an organ in my ribcage

I felt someone somewhere steeling his heart. Let this be the last one i ever go near.  

Saturday, April 02, 2011

mon cheri

'我们都老了。'

是呀。有些东西已经不能避开了。things like flirting, like tension. like explaining why you aren't really looking for love, and possibly never will. that a lifetime of listening to love songs don't really amount to anything



sixteen-year-olds are cupids. verily. they shoot arrows dipped in venom which when in contact with you worms its way in making you think unrequited affection noble

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

unfettered

Today I went for a job interview. The only adequate way to describe how I perform is with a facepalm.

The day hadn't gone badly. I had KFC for lunch after travelling to collect another long due cheque. My bank account balance shot from two digits to four digits. On a whim I decided to visit a newly-opened hangout in the area. There I saw some very nice pencil drawings and purchased some very promising books. acting on another whim, I stayed for an interview I wasn't prepared for. (I found out about the opening earlier in the week, and hadn't come round to preparing my application.)

Am feeling too ashamed to write a thank-you note. 

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Know the rules before you break 'em

Encountering yet another lull in ambition. 

Father asked again this morning how it was that I could have failed to hand in all my coursework, and I wasn't quite sure how to reply him, cos I have forgotten myself, you see. (As with all things me) It is unbelievable and, at the same time, very believable that I could not fulfill the passing criteria that is 30%.

and he asked if I might apply for management programs at SIM. why haven't I considered that seriously myself?

Sunday, February 06, 2011

The one where I squeeze in a review

Hullo! I am recovering from a particularly persistent bout of flu. And while I slept the earth rumbled and I entertained thoughts of escapism.

My 2010 was pretty exhilarating, except maybe where I had to do basic programming again again and then once more. I was doing something awesome every month. I first laughed when I heard that somebody had commented that I had practically played away my time in school and then nearly cried when I mused over it on my own. No, I haven't found that elusive thing that makes me mistake work for play. 


Got to go start clearing some of that backlog now

Sunday, December 12, 2010

不知何时写的
--------------------------
花了24小时想一个人。见了他却不知如何反应,
昨天的痛又开始。crumbling into today
The tormentor does not remember her/his crimes, and yet the tormented should live in yesterday's shadow, for ever.
我们可以继续,不,不可以向前。。
幸福是给别人的。或许DNA里也有这样的gene.想下车。的确是有。
我不想继续吃药。因为
1)这病好像是我编出来的借口。是呀。跟正常人接触多了就有对人的理解。有时候不知道我是不是对时【身?】边的人不够信任。而这是不是因为对自己的评价很低所以
I usually just manage to convince myself that and then I wonder where my confidence emanates from.
所以遇见你真的令人快活。
You make me want to stop my pointless O^r Q^ng & ask, why NOT?

Sunday, December 05, 2010

On the Internet everything is funny until some idiot makes it humane

To my great astonishment and comparable amusement, a lecturer of mine recently announced that computers will become smarter than human beings. Her explanation was that the smartest brains create and build computers, and computers will learn from them and grow smarter. Computers trumping humans at chess was cited as a forerunner to a future when computers will outwit the wise man. The Matrix was thrown in the fray too.

The setting probably did not allow her to elaborate on her line of reasoning, and so the apparent fallacies (she has taken to using the word a lot). But I was piqued anyway about the inherent assumptions. Came online, and Wikipedia led me to the Chinese room, which I think was hinted at at an informal lab intro to computing years ago.

The same lecturer, when broaching the freemium model on another day, urged us to make a donation to Wikipedia, if we could afford to. Just saying.


On a disparate note, isn't it funny how 'Google is your friend, {fucktard}' became 'Google is my friend, we're chummy, lol, and I am so proud of it'.

{} - optional

Thursday, November 04, 2010

It was to be SIA Week

Sigh.

Sent to you by applet0 via Google Reader:

via PHD Comics on 10/28/10


Piled Higher & Deeper by Jorge Cham
www.phdcomics.com
Click on the title below to read the comic
title: "Procrascorrelation" - originally published 10/27/2010
For the latest news in PHD Comics, CLICK HERE!

Things you can do from here:

Friday, October 29, 2010

On the banks of Temasek I sat and stared as a girl with yellow arm floats drifted downstream

You can't ask an acquaintance if he had a good childhood. It's too personal — and a potential can of worms. But we're naturally curious, looking for clues about the situations that our friends come from. This interest comes out in questions like "What do your parents do?" "Are you close with your family?" "Have you been home recently?" and even the straightforward "Where are you from?"

But what does a "good childhood" mean anyway? Most upbringings are complicated; mixed bags. Most parents try their best, and all make mistakes.

Descriptions, whether words or images, of the physical spaces of our formative years hint at the relationships within. If these walls could talk, they'd tell tales long forgotten.
- Laura Brunow Miner, introduction to Coming Home

Sunday, October 03, 2010

YOYCI

Tai sao co nguoi kho choi nhu the? Em hieu anh co muc dich cao thuong nhung em co con duong cua em.

Monday, May 03, 2010

My parents are so cute

Recently, I went to the karaoke lounge with some new and old friends for just the second time in my life.

I thought the night would end without me singing a song. Somehow a mike found its way into my hand and I sung a track, liked it, and unleashed my now-cracked vocals on teesny bits of songs (each attempt ended with me helplessly passing the mike on).

I decided when I left that, yes, karaoke is fun :) At home my parents took turns asking me about my first karaoke attempt. (as any concerned parent would, no?) They were curious about the First Song.

Yesterday, the topic came up again. My father whipped out his iPhone, looked for the song on YouTube, and played it in the living room. My mother ran a mini commentary of the song while watching her drama serial. Her: 'Rock undertones, hmmm. Yeah yeah yeah~ You could reach those notes???'



The first time I went to a karaoke lounge was in Pahang, Malaysia with family and family friends. Everyone had fun, the old folks hogged the airtime and I flatly refused to sing. I still had fun, but my parents were a little disappointed to not have heard me sing.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I am dead.

I think my family knows. 

Monday, June 01, 2009

Hint: I'm wearing something different from yesterday

Things I meant to do by 2359 : 2009.05.29
Return NLB books [overdue]
Return NUSLIB books [severely overdue]
Collect a book reservation
Check results
- renew locker
- decide on my S/U options, if any
Finding out the deal on barcodes
Get fitting earphones
Reorder the files in SD card
Download a few text files
Pack luggage
It has been 48hours since I landed and I have completed only one item on the above to-do list.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Truthiness is the way

Stephen Colbert rocks. like totally. I can see my hours spent

Friday, May 01, 2009

Never learn, do we?

Today was a good day. Even the time idled away was better than the way my last few weeks were spent. No useless naps, no unnecessary tears, some laughter, concentration better than usual.

I made headway (gathered more materials + had more ideas) on the essay. even tho I'm never going to be able to hand it in now, I would like to finish it.

I had soup for lunch, read a good book, saw a baby bird receive TLC, played Photohunt, participated in bathroom karaoke: Westlife's I Lay My Love on You + Fool Again, ate chocolate, drank milk, and am ready to keep track of my expenses again.

I actually finished (and enjoyed) and made it past Chapter 3 in Linear Algebra. Heh. I may even finish the syllabus, insyaallah.

Really, the temerity of yours truly scares me too. I am going to really, really regret what I did. It's not fair, I should get to have possession of my brain at all times.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Where do I start?

Even if one is not an actual immigrant or expatriate, it is still possible to think as one, to imagine and investigate in spite of barriers, and always to move away from the centralising authorities towards the margins, where you see things that are usually lost on minds that have never travelled beyond the conventional and the comfortable.
- Edward Said, in the third Reith Lecture in the 'Representations of the Intellectual' series


In my moments of clarity, I lament that I haven't been able to respond to the heeding of my tutors (as I will now call anyone who has taught me something, because teacher is reserved for the ones who have earned a living from being in the same classroom with me) to take leave of my comfort zone.

I started reading to have everyone leave me alone. Now that I have succeeded, and constantly bask in my isolation, what do I read for? 

There are (to me) new forms of literature that are intimidating, because of the nuances in thought they present I haven't been able to detect on my own, and also that require nothing less than total concentration on my part and at the same time revealing, because they allow me to reflect on my and (what I perceive to be) the writer's own patterns of thinking and doing. When I succeed in immersing myself in the texts, I am delighted to find another world, one which I never noticed, and the wonder I feel is usually sufficient impetus to read on. The questions of why couldn't you do this too? will surface, more often than not. <- is this the mark of the ignoramus? the lack of appreciation for the context that propelled these works, and, too, the lack of awareness of limits to one's abilities? For the works of giants, with their elegant prose that frame their ideas so well, that they produced in their youth, I am unable to read without guilt. I am also unable to read them when I cannot focus. 

It is said that the Great look at the people better than themselves and ask how they may close the gap while the Destructive magnify the differences and despair that they should ever reach the same heights, then wallow in self-pity.

Enjoy, if you can

I have seen the future, and boy is it bleak.

After lingering on the the Students At-Risk list year in, year out, I am finally fulfilling my innate potential and dropping out of school entirely.

I am going to take up a salesgirl position, settle down with a beng who takes a fancy to me complain to my 1.3 children about their father. complain to anyone who would listen about how could I have married for money. which I might, but will actually be unlikely to do so because I do not have the attributes of a Trophy Wife. My children and husband will complain to their colleagues and friends and each other about the bland food their mother prepares. I will either grow fatter or be further reduced to skin and bones. I will try not to practice favouritism among my kids. and every year or dinner regale them with the same tales of how I used to have teachers who were the nephews of Minister so-an-so, how Singapore used to be so simple, without the inflammatory bloggers and the casinos, of the sacrifice I made for the family in leaving the workforce when my 1.3 children popped out (but I would not try to find a job, because I have 'lost touch'), and some other made-up tales. My husband will feel neglected, wonder where the woman he married disappeared to, and he ultimately betrays me when the 7 year itch presents itself. If I find out, I will pretend to not see it. And if confrontation becomes inevitable? Well, I will end my life, to quicken the process of writing of this entry. Fine.

I am entering the nameless masses, will be floundering in the sewers, and living the rest of my life out as a statistic in the bell curve my high school Chem teacher went on and on about. One life, live it.