let this blog be revived..soon

soon and not now, cos exams begin next week *horror*.
Well, I just read the very first post on this blog and realised that my blogging/writing style has deviated somewhat. That post was so personal, so sincere, and relatively well-written. Must revive some of that, and inject some creativity into my writing. Lower secondary school saw a rising curve in my writing skills, but unfortunately, it went downhill since then, what with much less reading, switching to Chinese entertainment, and I guess, to some degree, no more tuition with the ever-encouraging and inspiring Mrs D : p
While I set out to use this blog as a platform to uncover myself, I now see increasingly impersonal posts..Hmm..
There's nothin much to write about in my life now.It very much consists of being in my room almost 24/7, tryin to study. So we shall wait for 26january - for liberation!

flyin emirates

Apprehensive. That’s the word to describe my feelings about flyin on an airline other than MAS. Apprehensive about the food, the whole transit procedure (2 hours plus in Dubai). But I felt optimistic about transit, for I’d be able to get out of the plane for a while…the restlessness and stress of being in the confines of limited space is quite unbearable. I was glad the transit would break my journey into two.. and I’d get to see Dubai.

Now just about half an hour from landing in KLIA, I’d pass a verdict in favour of the airline. The staff are pleasant and helpful. In fact, the standard of service offered can match that of British retail outlets. Meals are served promptly (compare this to my agonising experience on MAS, Manchester-KL first time around when they wouldn’t serve dinner two hours into the 8pm flight.I was seriously starving). Overall, I guess they are actually a better airline than MAS. For despite their better-looking crew with more glamorous outfits, some of the MAS can be quite haughty/pretentious.
They also had a wide selection of movies. Notably, there was a tasteful Indian film called Parineeta (I think : P), The Cave, Goal!, The Dukes of Hazzard, Romeo & Juliet (the ‘90s movie starrin Leo DiCaprio and Claire Danes), The Skeleton Key starrin Kate Hudson, and even a Cantonese film in the Dubai-KL flight : 千杯不醉 (Drink Drank Drunk)(unfortunately, by the time I realised it’s showin, it was already halfway through : it wasn’t listed under the programme for the flight)。
Parineeta was quite an insightful film for me. Set in Calcutta in the ‘70s (? – cos at some point, Shenkar’s friend bought a newly released LP by Elvis), it tells the tale of young Lolita, her love for the spoilt musician (the scene of him on the piano in his lavishly decorated colonial home, on another passenger’s tv screen, was what prompted me to watch the film in the 1st place) cum son of tycoon, Shenkar. And charming older man Girish’s love for her. We see the contrast between Lolita’s practical down-to-earth character, who put her family first; and the spoilt ways of Shenkar. The setting is quite stereotypical in a way – rich guy falls for poorer girl, heartless tycoon (Shenkar’s father Navin), some tragedy (death of Lolita’s uncle), some singing (mostly Shenkar). But the actors make it a delightful watch : Lolita is played by a charismatic young actress with such beautifully soulful eyes, her aunt is just so lovable, Girish as well.
The Cave was still exciting second time around, and I was still touched by Jack’s sacrifice and steadfast leadership, and still curious bout the ending where Catherine reveals that the parasite is inside her as well – is it just a typical ending for an action film slotted in at the last minute, or if not, why do I not see any forewarnings throughout the film of Catherine’s condition, or that some of her actions were due to her parasite (like, perhaps, she wanted to get rid of Jack to up her chances of survival)?
The up-close shots of the football game at the climactic end of the film (the only part I watched), which, I’d say, brought the audience right down to the pitch with the players, was really exciting. If only football telecasts on tv were filmed like that haha.
So I only watched 2 films, cos I was too busy feelin unwell and restless : nauseous throughout the Dubai-KL flight due to the seemingly endless turbulences…also irked by the fact that my earphones didn’t work, after I’d spent a few hours early this morning burning MP3s to disc…
The selection of in-flight radio channels was impressive as well : the Engish programmes ranged from rock to Fully Reclined to chart hits to Chill-Out, jazz and some others. Only had one Chinese channel though, so there wasn’t a separate Cantonese channel like on MAS.
Witnessed a spectacular view when we neared Dubai : I watched the sun rise over The Gulf! Can you imagine?! Vast blue sea, a horizon that stretched unhindered for as far as I can see, and layers of fiery colours lining it. It was about 6.30am when I woke up, so I actually missed the beginning, twilight (urgh!) but it was dazzling nevertheless – truly makes up for my never havin watched a real sunrise on the beach : D. Also, as we were approaching KLIA, a thunderstorm was brewing, so I could see flashes of lightning (from the sky haha), and dark clouds hovering over the brightly-lit city.
But arriving in KLIA lifted my moods altogether. Could hardly contain my joy of seeing my family again : guess they could tell too, from my chattiness despite the long-haul flight.
It’s very nice to be home again. I could actually smell home…

A single unpleasant incident can bug me for hours, affecting my mood, sprouted a thorn in the back of my mind *grimace*. Been havin a realy bad rash for the past few days. Last night, I must’ve lost a good few hours of sleep cos of it. I decided to see a GP. Problem is, I’ve been removed from my previous General Practitioner (GP)’s list of patients because I’ve moved out of their coverage area in Fallowfield. Now I gotta get a GP in the city centre area. So I strolled along to the one near the Gay Village, on Bloom Street, as directed by SS, in high spirits – yup, was in a great mood today.. Was sounding the doorbell just as a lady who’s presumably a nurse at the clinic, approached the door form outside. She blatantly told me that they’re closed for the day (it was freakin 1.30 in the afternoon man!!!!!!!), and that I need to come in tomorrow. With my passport and a proof of address (which is limited to only utility bill or tenancy agreement). F*** the British and their stupid proof of address bullshit! Identification cards are a blessing…
And that was what kept me seething inside for the rest of the evening..up till now.

And there’s the nagging feeling that I’m becoming such a pushover (unrelated to the GP incident)...

‘Tis disturbing thoughts…..

First Day at Work. 好似打完仗返來咁啊﹗(Feels like I just returned from battle!)

Well, almost J.I actually enjoyed myself. I feel blessed. To have met some nice people on my first day. And that everything generally went okay, save a few reprimands by a supervisor, despite my initial woes. In short, it was 5 hours of continuous walking (more like dodging my way thru the meandering, narrow gaps between the tables) between the kitchen and my tables (tough luck that I got two at a far end). But I’d say movin around was the hardest bit, also the time when I served the main course – ‘tis how it was supposed to work : we were not to serve our own tables as we normally do, but just get the dishes from kitchen and ask our respective supervisors which table we should serve every time we come out with dishes. The problem : I had difficulty spotting my supervisor (wasn’t the only one in my group with tis prob) – none too pleasant when you have three hot n heavy plates of roast duck breast between your fingers *ouch*. Met a nice girl from Guangxi China, a Greek guy and a Spanish girl who lives in my hall (most of the agency’s employees are foreign, ie. non-Brit). And Spanish guys are good-lucking lar! Haha, at least the two I saw at work tonight… Like, dark, structured features. Think Raoul! Oh, and, I managed to nick two chocolates from what remained of the petits fours. Also, tis job’s good exercise for lazy me >.< Works my arm and leg muscles!

spent two whole hours at agency

Recently registered myself with a sort of catering agency. They provide people to serve food/wine at dinners or to work at bars/kiosks at stadiums. Having completed training, it’s now up to me to call into their office every week to ‘book work’, is. Find out what work is available for the coming week, and book myself a slot for when I’m available.
Why then was I at the agency for a whole 2 hours? They had an ‘open day’ for us temps (‘temporary workers’) to book work for the whole of December. It was supposed to be from 8.30-9.15pm. I arrived at the office just on time and it was packed full of youngsters like myself. So I was geared up for a wait. When it was finally y group’s turn, we were asked to stand around table of a staff at the agency. She listed the jobs available, day-by-day for a week, and whoever’s available booked him/herself for the job. It didn’t help that this first lady we got was particularly cranky, having been in front of the computer doing that for quite a few hours I suppose, and the room being that crowded, with an ongoing noisy din. Luckily, we came to nicer people as we moved on to the other stations. What relief when it was finally over. Also helped that the lady who printed out my placement schedule was so nice. Phew! Finally, off I go!
These jobs will finance my Geneva trip (switched to Geneva, cos my friend’s worried bout the riots in Paris), and then some : D. The job on New Year’s Eve pays £10/hour! Woohoo… Bummer though that I’ll have to buy some parts of the uniform. Will try to relax and not break/spill anything at work.. Thanx, C, for the reassuarance : )

Trip Down South Part II

Visiting the National Art Gallery in London, 1 November 2005

Yup, I made it to the National Gallery after all. Was quite intent on goin there this time around ‘cos I read in The Da Vinci Code that Da Vinci produced two dissimilar copies of The Virgin of the Rocks, one of which is displayed here in the National Gallery, the other at The Louvre. Since I’m slated to go to Paris with friends in December, I’d like to take a look at the one here first. Plus, my interest in art galleries has been piqued ever since that visit to the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery earlier this year.

Finding my way to the gallery from the bus stop was a challenge in itself. I got lost, again! That’s why I prefer the tube (the London Underground) over the bus. You know for sure when you get to your designated station, and there’s a map of the surrounding area in the station. The simple map I copied from Li Vyen (my coursemate with whom I came to London with) covered too small an area and was not helpful in face of the dense, non-perpendicular streets of the area. Eventually, I got directions from someone and found some signposts on the street.
Imagine my relief when having wandered around worried and exasperated with luggage in tow for a good 15 minutes at least, a cluster of relatively magnificent buildings came into view, and I saw a signpost indicating I was just steps away from the gallery. At first I mistook a nearby church for it :p Good thing I spotted the board about times for mass and the closed door >.<. The gallery stood in front of a large square (which I later learnt was Tralfagar Square). The sun was halfway up the eastern horizon and its rays cast dramatic shadows of the various objects in the square – the raised platforms, the people and especially a statue perched atop a very high pillar. Climbed the steps to the Roman-pillared Portico entrance (one of a few of the entrances to the gallery), filled with relief. Took a few pictures of the square and made my way in. Greater relief when I realised they have a cloakroom! Which means I can put these bags away for a while : D So off to the cloakroom (which was situated amidst a corridor of low white arches over a black floor which created a sorta mysterious subterranean feel), then back to the main reception for a plan of the gallery and an audio guide. The Virgin of the Rocks was situated in the first room I entered and it is indeed a masterpiece in my view. The glowing faces of Mary, Uriel, baby Jesus and baby John stood out in stark contrast to the dark background of a rocky cavern. I can truly imagine how eerie, as the audio guide commented, this painting would seem, hung in a dimly lit church where it was commissioned for. I was attracted instantly by the angel’s downcast gaze. The soft expressions of the characters and their subtle gestures were somehow arresting, and it’s truly impressive how the master, with the use of colour and shades made the figures appear to come to life on the two-dimensional canvass. I was quite awestruck as you can probably tell. ^.^ The image lingered in my mind throughout my trip round the gallery and remained my favourite piece. Must have to do with the novel!



There were some other pretty good pieces as well, but I was hard-pressed for time, having to meet Li Vyen at the Café de Hong Kong (imagine Kim Gary) near Chinatown in 40 minutes, and so wasn’t able to browse at a leisurely pace. The museum was also fairly busy with groups of school children and discussion groups and other visitors. Was mainly just looking out for the prominent works in an express tour of about half of the gallery.

The food at the Café was ok lor. They could’ve spread more peanut butter on the French Toast and the Black Pearl Tea (珍珠奶茶) wasn’t as good as Manchester’s Wong Wong Bakery’s. But overall, ok, and I like the familiar sound of Cantopop tunes they usually play in Chinese eateries here.

Immediately after lunch, I made my way to Euston train station for my trip home to Manchester.

Phew, that was quite a long one. Sorry if I’ve bored you with the narration >.<


"Patisserie Francois" in Bayswater

Trip Down South Part I

Backtracking to Sunday, 30 October 2005…

An enjoyable day in London. Must admit that of my trip down South, this is the leg I most looked forward to. Was greeted by excellent weather (read : warm rays of sun : D ) when I made my way to Malaysia Hall. It got so warm I no longer needed my jacket. Left my bags with a friendly makcik at the Hall.
While on my past trips I had C as my guide, thus never havin to rely on my (oh, is it there?) sense of direction, today I travelled completely alone. Found my own way between the coach station - Bayswater (where Malaysia Hall is) – Chinatown, then back and out again. I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I got to the British Museum (slight disappointment: I’d wanted to visit the National Art Gallery – forgot there is a difference between museum and art gallery : p ). So I really was not up to wandering around the Russel Square area in search of the museum (yup I actually did not have a map). Nevertheless, I discovered a Sicilian avenue en route, and was eventually shown the way by a good samaritan : “… It’s a massive building on your right. You won’t miss it.” Indeed. The entrance to the museum comprised of a courtyard and steps leading up to a porch held up by Roman pillars. Promptly joined an ‘eye-opener tour’ of The Classical World (Rome and Greece) upon arrival. I was particularly fascinated by one of the frieze sculptures of the Pantheon temple which featured men on horseback making their way towards a feast.Awesome how the sculptors could o effectively depict the growing momentum of the procession. Also visited the Egypt rooms but wasn’t all too impressed. But I was perhaps juts too tired to fully appreciate the artefacts. Rested on the steps at the entrance before making my way back to the tube station. Felt like a wandering traveller as I joined other worn-out tourists there, leaning on a pillar with music from my discman in my ears (Sammi Cheng’s album, which I couldn’t get tired of throughout my trip. The songs 傷 and 世界之最我願意 really grew on me).

Mood adversely affected by Weather

It’s a well-known fact that the English complain a lot about their weather. I’d say they have good reason to. It is like a woman’s moods. While it rarely ever rains as heavily as it does in Malaysia, its unpredictable nature and the incredible length of time for which it stays can be unpleasant : ( .Malaysian thunderstorms get us drenched to the knee. But they herald their coming with thunder and lightning and storm clouds rolling in so you get your weapons ready for the battle ahead. What of English rain then? Well perhaps ‘cos the skies are often grey anyway, you don’t see it coming until you’re caught in it. Yup, sometimes it's like rapid threads so it takes a keen eye to spot it through the window. And the true star of the show is the wind, which turns your umbrella and sends shivers to your bone (if you’re not too well-covered, that is).

Perhaps you would’ve guessed by now that I’ve just gotten back from a stroll in rainy weather. And my umbrella’s broken, ish! So I was walking with one side of it flapping down >.<