Crushed Mtball

Tuesdays with Salinger

2011-12-27T04:49:00.000-08:00

If there is an amateur reader left in this world - or anybody who just reads and run - I'll ask him with untellable affection and gratitude to split the dedication of this book four ways with my wife and children - Raise high the roof beam, Carpenters, J.D Salinger

I ventured out on a sunny Tuesday afternoon with the intention of grabbing some books from the library on my way to the supermarket for baking ingredients. Elated at having found the Salinger books that I came for, I delved into the book at the next available opportunity I had - today's one include squinting at the book's fine print as I walked toward AMK hub, though I later regretted terribly choosing to walk instead of hopping on the bus. Someone up there decided to reward my sudden motivation to exercise at every given opportunity with yet another one of the torrential downpours we've been experiencing so often these days.

But, really, you know you're partial to Salinger when even his dedications at the beginning of the book begin to sound very thought provoking. I for one can never read and run. If I like a book, like really love it, I have the tendency to research it to death. To squeeze the book dry of any experience it might be depriving me of. I have to know everything. Did I miss a nuance in character? Did a certain dialogue go right over my head when in fact it should have lighted an imaginary light bulb within me?

I think a lot of the persistent urge to rape a book of all it has to offer has to do with wanting to understand it better. I don't know. Please do not assume that I come into blogger with my thoughts all so organized, just waiting to be arranged into essay form. No, I think as I type, the thoughts file into my head in as haphazard a manner as you see before you. I think that when you love something, you want to understand it better. Perhaps it is in a bid to understand why you feel so passionately for it, to articulate your emotions. To reason, to rationalize your feelings into phrases such as 'unique style' and 'masterful storytelling'. Is it so hard for us to like a book just because, well, just because we like it, and not be forced to explain why?

I've always had this rather romantic fancy that when something is truly beautiful, when it touches something deep within you, it is quite indescribable. It's a silly little theory I had when I was younger (oh, much younger, and so naive) that should I venture to ask the guy who loves me, why he loves him, he'll stare at me quizzically, with a look of utmost affection, and say "I don't know, I just do." Its the same with art too. Art, beautiful art, should resound within you. It should make you gasp with breathless wonder. Your attention shouldn't have to be brought to the expert use of lines, or the clever play of colours before you can appreciate beautiful art. Beauty is an organic experience. We shouldn't need to be taught how to identify beauty. Am I before ridiculously naive? Is this merely a lame excuse for my complete inability to appreciate anything? Oh, it's not that you have no taste or preference, Rachel, you just haven't seen real beauty yet. Haha, how convenient.

Apple Tartlets from Poilane

2011-12-15T13:17:00.000-08:00

I got out of bed today to be greeted by one of Rouen's gloomy weather; the sky pitch black at 7.45am in the morning and a suspicious pitter patter could be heard at random intervals outside the window - Is is raining? Darn it, surely it can't be! No, wait, perhaps its simply the raindrops gathered from yesterdays downpour pattering on the ground as the wind (bloody wind!) rustles the leaves, yes? Sigh, you would think that perhaps for once I would be granted a warm, dry day in Paris, but no - it showered in Dieppe, drizzled in Bayeux, poured in Honfleur, and so it will rain today.

A strange sense of looming regret struck me yesterday evening as I read David Lebovitz's blog chronicling his life in Paris. It seems like such a pity that having been in France for 3 months, the number of times I've actually been to Paris is embarrassingly low. So fueled by a frenzied rush to make up for lost time, I had planned to visit 2 patisseries, 1 chocolatier, and 1 bon bon boutique and, oh before i forget, a visit to the museé d'orsay just so I won't get the 'What!?! You went to Paris just for pastries??' response, and of course, to move the digestion along cause one does need a little rest between pasties.

The morning started off to a delicious start with an apple tartlet from Poilåne; a nice flaky pastry hugging slices of golden baked apples sprinkled with sugar. Absolutely delish. This is one of those brainless apple desserts I dream about. You just sink your teeth into the pastry and let the buttery goodness of the puff warm your soul, but wait that's not the best part yet. The best part of the tartlet is the apples themselves. No kidding. I'm not a fan of apple base dessert, most of them are rather too tart for my liking. I've been living in the apple paradise which is Normandy for 3 months, but if its anything, I've grown more in love with its pears than its apples. But, these! These are no ordinary apples. These wrinkly slices of baked apples nestled inside Poilane's apple tartlets defy physical laws. It is simply impossible for brownish slices of unappealing fruit to be so darn juicy. Non, c'est pas possible. Yet, bite into a slice of these apples, and sweet apple juice just seeps into your mouth. And, the awesome thing? No, cringe inducing tartness!

Cafe Pouchkine: Charlotka & Napolean

2011-12-14T06:46:00.000-08:00

Rouen's weather has been a sneaky little bastard of late; tricking me out with its warm sun and clear blue sky, only to have the sky turn a menacing grey just minutes out of my room. I had to brave the wind's constant harassment as I made my way to Pain 9 to get my weekly (no, scratch that, daily) fix of crumble poire, tarte amadine poire, or whatever is new on the shelf. Today, that happen to be a tart cremeuse banana and a banana chocolat muffin. I'm all set for dinner and supper.

Just barely a week left before I leave the pastry paradise which is France. I've been spoilt really. Having tasted creations from the likes of Cafe Pouchkine, Jean-Paul Hevin and Jacques Genin, it'll be impossible to look at pastry the same way again. I have to kick my pastry habit pronto, Singapore doesn't yet have enough patisseries to support my pastry addiction. But I'll leave going pastry cold turkey for when I'm back home, right now, there's still so many pastries I have to tried. Here's a much delayed review of Café Pouckine.

Café Pouchkine is one of the very few patisseries that I've visited more than once. Mianly because its do darn convenient located in Printemps just minutes away from Gare Siant-Lazare; hop off the train from Rouen, brisk walk on an empty stomach to Printemps, because you're smart enough to have skipped breakfast in preparation for the calorie loaded day ahead, stare at the gloriously baroque looking pastries on the shelves of Café Pouchkine, spent 10 agonizing minutes choosing, re-choosing and then almost always returning to your very first choice, slide onto the high chair at the counter, dig in and....mmmm.

The pastries at Café Pouchkine are quite unlike any other pastries I've seen in France. While the creations of Pierre Hermé and Jacques Genin have a classy French sensibility to them, always elegant, very demure, Café Pouchkine produces pieces which are just the opposite. Extravagant, lavish architectural wonders; gold dusted eclairs, mysterious looking globes of orange balance atop fancy dishes fashioned out of feuille; a feast for the eyes basically.

On my first trip there, I sampled the Charlotka. I usually delve into a pastry without fully knowing what main ingredients feature in it. Mainly because the little description cards are all written in French, and it'll be a little embarrassing spending five minutes squinting at the tiny print, trying to decipher what it says in my less than stellar french. Apples feature very prominently in this piece. Thinly sliced apples are arranged atop a biscuit shell encompassing spiced apple and quince cubes. The biscuit ring is absolutely fantastic. Subtle wafts of vanilla flavoring, just the right balance of crispiness that it doesn't disintegrate when you fork cuts into it but instead simply splits open. Don't you just love it when your pastry cuts cleanly and doesn't make a mess with crumbs and what not? It might be my OCD speaking but I feel a curious sort of joy when I cut into a pastry and it just gives in, no resistance, no mess.

That said, although aesthetically impressive, I am not bowled over by its taste. The star anise spiced quince and apples does land the pastry a unique taste but, other than that I don't think there's much to rave about. Perhaps I'm a little prejudiced when it comes to apple based desserts. To me, apples are meant to be homely, comfort food. Mixed into tarts your grandma bakes or mashed into pies. You know brainless desserts that you gobble down without having to ponder about nuances in flavoring. Café Pouchkine's Charlotka doesn't work for me because it seems to be straddling two different areas; on one hand the inclusion of star anise spiced quince and apples snuggled in paté gives the piece a very exotic touch, on the other, apples have a familiarity in taste which is quite inescapable. Frankly, the Charlotka is not nearly as exotic enough or comforting enough to pass on either front.

A more interesting piece would the Napolean. The same lovely biscuit shell encapsulating vanilla cream sitting atop orange infused paté. The picture below displays how beautifully the Napolean cuts; see, no stray crust or crumb flying onto your lap, just a crisp break to reveal the glorious vanilla cream. Oh, and how glorious the cream is. Just the right density- not too cloying as to overwhelm you taste buds and not too light as to come to nothing. And the vanilla! The little description card for the Napolean described the cream as being parfumed with vanilla, and what an apt word that is! Spoon a glob of that cream into your mouth and you'll feel as though you were eating vanilla air. Is that even possible? Vanilla air? But yes, so subtle in taste yet ever present...vanilla air.

So yes, as I begin to prepare for my trip back home, a problem which has kept me up for the past few nights is what to buy back to Singapore? Should I get Clementines from Un Dimanche a Paris? Chocolates from Jean-Paul Hevin? Should I attempt to transport Café Pouchkine's Napolean back home? Argh, decision, decisions.

Un Diamanche a Paris and Hugo & Victor

2011-11-28T11:22:00.001-08:00

I really ought to be more diligent with my blog updates. If there's any time to be totally self-engross and disillusioned about the importance of my life (so much so that it requires minute day to day recording), it is now! For I am sure that accounts of my pastry romps in Paris is decidedly more interesting than accounts of my mental battles with inconsiderate passengers on the MRT. Not that I'm not looking forward to going back to Singapore. I am.

But in the mean times, there are 38 top pastries to cover, only 2 down, 36 to go. I posted up Pierre Herme's Tarte Vanille in the last post, attempted to do a review before completely side tracking and turning the entire post into some sort of self-examination. Lol, I'm sorry, my bad. I have the tendency to do that sometimes. Anyhoo, I not about to do another review on that Tarte Vanille. As I've said, it was well...nice? Nothing mind blowing, just pleasant to taste.

Besides Pierre Herme we also managed to find our way to Un Dimanche a Paris where we tried the much raved about Choux Pistache aux Fruits Rouge; a lovely croustillant au grue choux pasty sandwitching a swirl of pistachio Chantilly cream, over a base of fruits rouge. France has been my initiation to pastry heaven. I've found so many different types of pastries that I've never got to try back home and croustillant au grue is my best discovery yet. There's something amazing about a croustillant au grue choux pastry. You bite into the choux, expecting it to be soft and billowy, only to have it crumble ever so slightly into your mouth. Like one of those addictive oatmeal cookies that you have to munch on incessantly. The croustillant crumbs don't just disintegrate into nothing, they have a little bite to them which lends the choux an amazing medley of texture. Delish!

Un Dimanche a Paris's Choux Pistache aux Fruits Rouge's croustillant choux was wonderful, if not just a little wanting of bite, but that's just my preference. The pistache Chantilly though, was a little bland to taste, if it wasn't for the little nibs of pistachio dotting the chantilly swirl, and of course, the cream being a very distinctive green in colour, I would be hard press to tell that the Chantilly was pistachio flavoured. In contrast, the fruits rouge were perfectly done, just the right balance of acidity and tart sweetness. All together, the Choux Pistache aux Fruits Rouge was a pleasant dessert but not particularly memorable.

Hugo and Victor's Chestnut Mousse Dome was a slightly more impressive affair. I am not completely sure of this piece's composition but from what I can discern, it consist of a dome of chestnut mousse resting atop a circle of chestnut nibbed sponge, and finally glaze with a thin layer of milk chocolate. Nestled within the dome were small pieces of sugar glazed chestnut pieces.

I was pleasantly surprise by the chestnut mousse. The mousse had a certain complexity to it which unfolded slowly in your mouth. Tasting vaguely of milk on first bite, the subtle taste of chestnut is slowly discernible only after you let the mousse linger slowly on your tongue. Although, the chestnut sponge provided a good texture contrast to the creaminess and smoothness of the mousse, I would have liked it better if the contrast was more pronounced; a nice crunchy base made of crushed chestnut cookies would have been delightful.

Might I add that blogging about pastry in the middle of the night is doing nothing for my diet.

When in Rouen..

2011-11-22T09:37:00.000-08:00

Is it strange that a simple Tarte Amandine Poire from a little shop at the back alley of Rouen gives me more satisfaction than Herme's Tarte Vanille?

There's just something very comforting about the tarts from Pain 9. Now, how do I put this... I must say that one thing these 3 months have taught me is that I do not have a career in food review! The words just do not come to me so here, I'm going to do this the primitive way - What do I think of Pain 9's Tarte Amadine Poire: mmmmm.... *smacks lips*

Haha does that count as a constructive review?

Well, with this tart don't expect a medley of flavours or textures to explode in your mouth. This tart does not belong with the sophisticated pastries you see displayed behind the tastefully lit counters of Un Dimanche a Paris, instead this is what I'd imagine my mom to bake. Hot out of the oven, shooing her children's hands away as we attempt to devour it straight, a little time in the fridge, and then out on the table for dessert in the evening. These tarts are comforting, they're homely and they warm my soul.

I know Normandy is famous for its apples but its their pears I'm falling in love with. Again I'm at a loss for how to describe the Normandy pears, I know, I know, you're beginning to hate me for this, but really, I do try, but nothing comes out. When you bite into a slice of Normandy pear, it is slightly, just ever so slightly, hard on the surface. And then as you teeth sinks in further, it becomes so soft that the sweet juice just explodes in your mouth. Really, I'm serious, it explodes! Ok, maybe not literally, but ya, there's an 'explosion' of flavors.

I'm beginning to notice a trend here, and I'm sure I've talked about this before but I'm going to rattle on again anyway, but somehow, the restaurants that really strike a chord with me aren't those fancy establishments serving dainty pieces of meat on fine china plates, but those little corner restaurants I stumble upon, hesitant at first to go in and then later, so damn glad I did.

The food is unpretentious and hearty. Service is always so heart warming. Despite my horrible french, the owner usually takes the time to tell me about the dish I'm eating and ask me what I thought of dinner, and that makes my night.

One such restaurant I chanced upon was Mes Mets, located at 37 Rue aux Ors. I remember walking by the quiet unassuming restaurant 3 times before deciding to try my luck. It was here that I first tried escargot done in creme fraiche. Absolutely fantastic. I cleaned up the cocotte afterwards with what remaining bread I had left. Since I was about the only one dinning at the restaurant that night (and please don't let that deter you from going to Mes Mets), service was extremely personal. I had a delightful conversation with the owner on our love for escargot and how we can't understand why some people might be afraid of this delicious snail. And well, since I am usually an epic failure at making connections with strangers, any conversation is a delightful conversation.

My main course was not too shabby either. Pan fried sliced pork with what I believe are red pepper. This is plate of very deceptive pork. They looked so dry outside, so I couldn't believe how tender and juicy when I landed my first bite. Ahh, the memories. I should go back to Mes Mets. And I would go back if not for the fact that there are so many other restaurants in Rouen and so little time. I'm a girl on a mission. A very fattening one.

We're having mussels for dinner tomorrow at Le Rocher. I can't wait.

An Education in Pastry

2011-11-19T12:40:00.000-08:00

Spent a lovely day in Paris today trying out a few of the pastries listed on Paris Pastries Top 38 list. Had a very engaging conversation with Ryoka on the train to Paris about Art; the definition of good art, the difficulty of relating to impressionism, Japanese traditional art. Is is strange that after an hour of such stimulating conversation I felt a slight pain throbbing at the side of my head? Could I have been deprive of good conversation for so long that participating in one causes my mind to over exert itself? That sounds pathetic, and if its true, its such a pity. Ryoka surprises me with her quiet intelligence sometimes. She's good company. Its rare to find someone who shares the same interest as I do; art history, food, dessert.

We walked along the streets of Paris making our first stop at Pierre Herme's Bonaparte boutique. I am embarrassed at how I'm reduced to a giggly girl of 14 when faced with rows after rows of chocolate glazed pastries, macaroons, tarts. We eventually gave up trying to decide which pastry to choose and simply confessed sheepishly to the charming French man behind the counter - "We've actually made a list. Do you have any of these pastries available now?"

Most of the pastries were seasonal, the only item available on our list was Herme's Tarte Vanille. Ok then, Tarte Vanille it is, we mustn't deviate from the list. The guy behind the counter approved, good choice, he said. Flattering isn't it? Good choice. As you can see, my ego is very easily boost.

How was Herme's Tarte Vanille? Well, this is the hard part. I don't really know. Reading about how Adam waxes lyrical about the Tarte on his blog, I expected to achieve a dessert epiphany, yet all I felt was 'hmm, ok...". That has always been the problem with me, hasn't it? I don't feel anything. I don't feel anything when I'm faced with the beauty of rows after rows of trees, ablaze with the colours of autumn, I don't feel anything when I look at famed paintings, my heart doesn't move any differently within the confines of a grand gothic church. These past months, I feel like one of the characters in Fringe. You know the one who was incapable of feeling happiness so he goes around sucking the happy memories of other, normal, humans. Me, instead of collecting memories, I'm collecting feelings. I'm teaching myself how to feel. I ask Ryoka, what do you feel when you see a Monet?

Is that even right? Teaching myself how to feel? The correct way to feel. It doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel right to have to tell myself that in the face of impressive architecture, the right emotion should be awe. But I want to be moved. I want to be able to look at a painting and go "Its beautiful isn't it?", I want to be able to say "Botticelli's my favourite, I adore him', I want to be able to give an answer other that "It was really cold' when asked how Prague was. I want to experience intense emotions, and yet I cannot. I want to be able to appreciate art because it truly resounds with my heart and not because its the cultured thing to do. Oh what the hell, he was right, I am like wood.

2011-11-15T14:22:00.000-08:00

I want to write a blog post. I feel like writing but somehow the words don't seem to flow out.

Is it the lack of things to talk about?

No, I don't think so. If anything, I have so much to say. Two weeks of traveling around Europe makes for very engaging writing material; I've seen new places, tried new food, found out aspects of my character I never knew existed, understand old aspects of myself. There're tons to write about, but somehow, I don't feel like talking about these things. Perhaps its because I've talked about them so many times; in my postcards, in my conversations with people I trust enough to allow them a little peek into my psyche, running them over repeatedly in my mind. I don't wish to visit these topics now, at least for the time being.

What can I blog about then?

Of Time, Bayeux, and Failed Conversations

2011-10-17T16:40:00.000-07:00

Time is flying by so fast. A blink of an eye and already its mid-October. I find myself saying that a lot these days; whether its in my postcards or at the start of conversations I have with random strangers. Haha, kinda explains why I'm such a tragic conversationalist doesn't it? But I think somehow I've convinced myself that if I repeat it enough, I'll slowly grow accustom to this break neck speed in which time travels, and with that, perhaps prepare myself mentally for

when the end comes.

It does weird things to you. Time, I mean. These days, time and its lack thereof has been constantly on my mind. I find myself almost in a rush to tick off all the food I have yet to try, visit all the places I have yet to seen, as though one minute wasted is one minute closer to the end.

The end, how tragic it sounds.

It's a strange development, but I find myself forsaking my self-consciousness quite a bit these past weeks. While in the past I'm rooted to floor, grounded by my false sense of propriety, these days I throw caution to the wind and just go for it. There's a 'If not now, then when!?!' mentality fueling me, I'm finally letting my emotions run the show. It's scary, it is, but at the same time strangely exhilarating.

I made a day trip to Bayeux last week. Really, I've come to realize that I'm not one for traveling. Unlike other teenagers my age, I have no burning desire to see the world. If Rouen was populated with enough Boulangeries and Bistros to occupy my week, I would be more than willing to stay put right where I am. But no, my lack of dinning option isn't the only reason why I crawl out of bed at 7am in the morning to make my way to the Gare. There's one other thing. It's their darn pictures that what it is. The pictures my friends take of their travels abroad. Sheesh, its pathetic, but somehow I feel that if I don't travel I'm wasting my time and that

sooner or later, probably later when I'm back in Singapore, I will live to regret my laziness. And I hate to live in regrets.

Bayeux was initally disappointing. I had drawn up a list of restaurants I wanted to choose from for my lunch but none of them were open. Yes, apparently, Tuesday and Wednesday are their

off days. Who would've guessed? I walked the uneven streets a little depress, and finally settled on a creperie nearby. Although settled would be a little of a overstatement. The 'settled' makes it seem as though I had a lot of options to choose from, I didn't, it was the only establishment open on Wednesday. I ordered a galette with escargot, herbs, and butter. Nothing fantastic, but losers can't be choosers.

The rest of my afternoon was spent at the Bayeux Tapestry Museum. Here's the good part - The museum was surprisingly rather interesting. The main exhibit was this really long tapestry narrating the story of William the Conqueror's ascend to the throne of England and the fall of Harold. I had an audio guide which unfolded the story as I walked past each panel of the tapestry. That's it for Bayeux.

I had my Sunday meal at Restaurant Jam a few weeks back. I really should be more prompt with my blog updates; after such a long lapse in time, I can not find the inspiration to write anything much about it. But here are the pictures, solely for record purposes, so perhaps one day, not far into the future, I can look back at this blog post and remember all the great dinning experiences I had. It seems such a shame to post these pictures up without at least dedicating a few words to the great meal I had, but something has been weighing on my mind today and I do not have the energy to wax lyrical about ouef en cocotte.

What has been weighing on my mind? I am a tragic conversationalist, that's what. It sucks to start off so enthusiastic about a new friend - You're so eager to learn more about each other, to share more about yourself, to like each others company. Slowly as you see each other more often, the conversation runs dry, you can feel the awkward silence, the strain to search for new topics. The thing is, when that happens, when the topics run dry, you fall back on your fail safe plan - You talk about yourself. Much as I like talking about myself, its what happens after that I hate. The feeling that I've shared too much, that I've unintentionally opened a window into my soul.

What does that spells for me? Can I never get to know someone without these concerns constantly eating at me?

Of Dieppe, Unfortunate Seagulls, and Poulet Basquaise

2011-10-06T03:29:00.000-07:00

I can't help but smile to see that the sun is finally peeking out from beneath the gloomy clouds. I also can't help but notice the irony of that feeling.

Sigh, I am one hard girl to please. Just last week, I was moaning about the relentless sun, but yesterday, as I battle the strong winds of Dieppe, threatening to mess up my hair, I moaned about its absence.

But, Dieppe, ah, Dieppe, what can I say about this little beach town located just 45 minutes from Rouen? I guess the fact that I can't say much about it pretty much speaks for itself. In fact, there was really nothing much to see. The beach? Yes, the sea was a lovely shade of coral blue, the little smooth pebbles (ya, no sand! just pebbles) was an interesting terrain to navigate, but that's about it! There's really nothing much else to say.

And my meal? The worse one yet. I came to Dieppe for the seafood. I didn't come to see the beach, nor did I come to Dieppe to visit the Chateau, I went there for lunch cause that's just the kinda person I am. If you want me to travel 45 minutes across town for a great lunch, hellya I'll do it. But lunch at Dieppe was disappointing to say the least. Like a dutiful tourist I did my research before embarking on the trip. There were 2 must try restaurants in Dieppe- Bistro du Pollet and A La Marmite Dieppoise. The first one couldn't be found, no thanks to the horrible map I got from the tourist office which neglected to mention the names of several streets, the second was way to expensive for me to afford. So i decided to scout the line of restaurants flanking the quarry in hope that perhaps one of them might appeal to me.

None of them did, but I saw a seagull being run over by a truck.

In retrospection, it really was quite a traumatizing experience. I didn't know seagulls were such huge birds. The only contact I've had with seagulls was watching them fly into the horizon, like little specks of dust in the sky. To see them up close, they bulky body, their huge wings, they kinda look like mini pelicans. Mom, said that birds don't ever get into car accidents. That somehow, they have a little something something in them which allows them to take off whenever a car gets too close for comfort Not for seagulls I guess.

The red truck ran off the poor bird just as it had extended its wings, ready to take

off. So there it lay, right smack in the middle of the street, its wings moving limply, its chest thumping just ever so soft. And, what was I doing? Nothing. Absolutely, nothing. I stood transfixed by the sight, somehow I knew I should be doing something, pull the bird off the main road perhaps. But there were so many questions streaming through my mind- Should I really get it off the road? How should I carry it off? Is it already dead? Maybe I should wrap my hands in a plastic bag and then lift the bird off, no? Should I carry my shopping bags with me when I attempt my bird rescue, or should I leave it on the street? What if someone takes my bag away? As I stood there struggling to answer my doubts, a passerby dragged the bird by its wing onto the pavement. Oh right! That's a smart way of doing it, no need for lifting the bird, dragging will do.

The bird eventually died, and I felt like such a wuss. Really, sometimes, just sometimes, I wish that I could act on my emotions. I wish that I did not have to be filled with so many self-doubts and questions. Sigh, I guess its some sort of retribution that my lunch eventually sucked big time. The fish soup was....fishy. The marmite les poisson had salmon in it, and dessert was just store-bought creme caramel. I guess I do deserve that.

In other news, I feel obligated to blog about the excellent Poulet Basquaise I had at Rue de Robec last Sunday. The thing about unplanned meals like this is that it always surprises you. You walk into an unknown brassiere, ask for the plat du jour, and more often than not you'll be pleasantly surprise by how good it is. That meal made my Sunday. It wasn't excellent chicken, that's not the point. The point is that it was surprisingly good given the zero expectations that I had.

I think that's how I like to spend my time here- a good meal, some dessert perhaps (all the time, mostly), a cup of hot chocolate later and a good half an hour of reading. Sometimes it feels as though I'm wasting my time. These days especially, I feel how quickly time has passed me by. Its October already! Surely, I should be traveling about, seeing places in France. But the thing is, after having made trips to Aix en Provence and Dieppe, I don't think I like to travel about much. When you're traveling, there's a list of things you have to accomplish, places you have to see, quick, quick, quick. There's no time to savour your meal, to soak in the atmosphere, to experience joire de vivre (i notice that this is the second time I've used this phrase). At the end of the trip, instead of feeling excited about having accomplished so much, I'm completely drained. I'll take a slow morning discovering the marche of Rouen and then lunch, anytime.

Sunday at Portes des Vanves

2011-09-27T03:23:00.000-07:00

No flea market is worth the effort after you've been to Thailand's Platinum mall, its sad, but true. Oh, I'm a horrible shopper, I know I am. I can spend the entire morning at one of the largest flea markets in Paris, and yet come home with nothing. Nil. Zero. No purchase at all. Unless you count the eclair I bought at the end of the trip as a purchase, but I wouldn't.

Sheesh. It feels horrible. Waking up at 6am in the morning, taking a 1 hour 40 minutes train ride to Paris, out maneuvering someone who attempted to steal my coins, all that and to come back empty handed. I wanted to buy, I was prepared to buy. I felt a strange surge of excitement at the beginning of the trip when I heard my coin box jingle. But every single time I saw something that looks pleasant, my mental calculator went "OMG, 20 euros for that necklace!?! I can get it first hand for 3 euros at Platinum!"

I am terribly uncultured aren't I? If you were me, you would have perhaps soaked in the sights around you, embrace the Parisian culture; little tables lining the road selling every thing under the sky; used buttons, door knobs, pages from a pretty printed book, wooden sculptures (whether antique or not, I’ll be hard press to tell) It was quite a sight. If you were me, you would probably say that the spirit of the Parisian les puces alone, is enough to get you spending. Either way, I think I might avoid the flea markets for a bit now, they’re bad for my ego.

Woke up to a day of laundry. Something has been weighing on my mind, hopefully it’ll pass soon enough. Today is my “Pamper yourself day”. I’ll dress up, travel to the city centre, treat myself to a good meal, and just relax. Looking forward to that.

Chocolate Crepes for Dinner

2011-09-23T09:39:00.000-07:00

I think that slowly, but surely, I'm getting use to life in Rouen. Life on my own.

There's nothing quite like being able to decide where you want to go without having to consult someone, stopping to eat when and where I like, growling (yes, you heard me right, growling!) the chorus of Bruce Sprinteen's 'Sad Eyes', without a care in the world. I am embracing my new independence.

Today, I decided on a spur to have chocolate crepes for dinner. Sitting outside the little creperie, my decadent chocolate crepe balanced gingerly on a little brown table along the cobbled foot path, Mairage Freres tea in hand, I said to myself, "This is joie de vivre'. This is the joy of life. I sipped my tea as I slowly penciled in the details of my sketch, I never did realize how much I enjoy sketching buildings. Its in the details. To be completely absorbed in a world of minute details; the slanting of the roof, the slight protrusion of the window still, I absolutely love it.

Now, if only the smell of Tom Yum noodles would stop wafting into my room, I'm sure I can make that chocolate crepe last till breakfast tomorrow.

Autumn Display: Pictures Up.

2011-08-21T00:03:00.001-07:00

Finally found the time to upload these pictures I took of the completed Autumn display:

It's been a whirlwind lately. I'll be leaving to France soon and I can feel that familiar dread knotting up in my stomach. Why is it that I'm so darn un-adventurous? I'm forcing myself not to think about it too much. Sometimes, my mind wonders, and imaginary scenes of what would happen when I'm over there begins playing out in my mind, but, I think what really kills me is not so much of what would happen over there, rather it's what will happen at home when I'm gone.

There seems to be so much unfinished business to settle. So many problem yet to be solve. So many people I'd have to keep an eye on. Are these just excuses? Maybe.

Either way, if I push these thoughts far back enough, I can hold myself together till I board the plane. Everything will be fine once I'm on that plane.

Autumn WIndow Display

2011-08-14T03:40:00.001-07:00

It's the end of the Summer season, and that calls for a new Autumn display for RI.

I have a love hate relationship with window displays - On one end, the sense of accomplishment is amazing; you go all round the island sourcing for material, experience 2 to 3 back breaking days of putting up the display, decided that something is missing, go out again to source for material, put up the finishing touches, do more tweaking... and then finally, you stand back and look at the results. It's quite a rush. But here comes the down side; small as our island is, its not a walk in the park when it comes to sourcing for material. I sometimes find myself at a

complete loss as to where to start looking. And then there's the sinking feeling when you're putting up the display. The actual look almost always isn't what you envision it to be in your mind, and when what you see isn't exactly what you were hoping to get, it takes some brain

wrecking to find that extra something which will bring the display from "ok, but..." to "aha! Exactly, what I wanted!"

For RI's Autumn window display, I came across this picture of the inetrior of a jewellery boutique while doing some research:

I like how the individual branches bending against the pillar, resembles the trunk of a huge tree, and thought I could do something similar inside a window. For an added autumn touch, and for texture, acorns or autumn leaves could be scattered around the branches.

This was an initial sketch I did of the display:

Easy to put together right? Just a bundle of branches, scatter some acorns around, it should be walk in the park. Wrong!

Branches....where do I even begin? You cannot believe how difficult it is to get decorative branches here in Singapore. Far East Flora don't stock many, the old tekka mall don't even sell them...I'm wondering, where do all the branches from those pretty wedding floral set up come from? Someone must be bringing them in.

So back to the internet I went. I collated a list of florist in Singapore, shortlisted a few potential shops, and started calling away. I figured we had better find out once and for all the source of the elusive branches.

Yet, none of the florist on my list stocked any branches besides the common, and completely inappropriate for my display, willow branch. However, my research did not all go to waste. One of the very nice florist I called up suggested I go to Ikea instead. Ikea? Really? Lol, they really do stock every single thing don't they?

To Ikea I went, and lugged back a huge bundle of tall, almost cane like, dark brown branches. Success, at last! But the branches still had to be cut to size. Judging from how thick some of the branches were, this was no easy feat.

6 hours of cutting, breaking, and the occasion swearing, later, the display was finally up.

But that wasn't the end of our ordeal. Something was missing. We were not able to locate any acorns to decorate the window with, and the autumn leaves that we did manage to get looked fake and of bad taste, sitting in the window. That lump in my throat was beginning to take shape. I think this happens every time I put up a display (ok, given, I've only put up 2 display since, so it's a bit of a generalization), I get that 'oh no, was there something wrong with my design?" feeling knotting up in my heart, and I find that usually the best way to go about it is to ignore the feeling completely, forget looking for that missing acorn, and think of what we can add now to improve the look.

This time, that add on came in the form of twine.

The window base was looking a tad bit bare, so to give the window more colour, I wanted to cover the base completely in brown twine. It looks very autumn-ish and the loose fiber occasionally coming out from the twine will add some texture to the look.

All I can say of that is this - It wasn't exactly the easiest idea to carry out. I don't want to bore you with all the excruciating details, documenting my island wide search for twine (the right shade, the right size), but it wasn't an easy feat. I eventually found my twine sold in a small store peddling fishing equipment, and bought 2 whole rolls back to twinify my window base.

2011-06-28T20:35:00.000-07:00

Mom said to me the other day that people would love to hear about my life; the obstacles I encounter each day, the emotional turmoil that wrecks my heart. I never really thought about it this way before. Blogging has always stump me. Like everything in my life, I believe that I have to blog for a purpose. What was it then? What was my purpose? Was it to chronicle my baking? I don't think that alone is enough to motivate me to blog. Yes, I do enjoy food styling, and posting picture I took of my baking on my blog, but recounting every step of the baking process? That's just a pain in the ass, and I admit I have no flair to make that sound even remotely as interesting as other food bloggers do.

What do I want to blog about then?

I want to blog about my life. I have a lot to share and a burning desire to record them all down, but deep inside there's this fear. This fear that I will be judge for what I write, judge for feeling the way I feel. Let's not forget, blogging is primarily a narcissistic activity. Bloggers do not seek to construct balanced arguments when they complain about the tragedies life has thrown their way. So if I start lamenting about my life, I'm sure someday someone might read it and go:

"Oh, that little princess. So sheltered from the world. She has no idea what real hardship is"

That is always something that strikes a nail into my heart. It gets to me every time. I'm pampered, I'm spoilt, I'm a strawberry. Really, I should get use to it by now but I have not because it's not true. These accusations they throw at me, they're not true. The things that I have to deal with, these people are lucky not to have experience so early in their lives. I yearn so much to share what these things are, but I know that my words do no justice to the pain I have felt. My words will only make my feelings less significant. I know that if I share these stories, halfway through I will be gripped with a sudden fear that I did not tell them right. That the words I used, the pacing, the pauses .... they were all wrong. Do I sound superficial? Do I sound more like an actor preparing for his performance than a girl riddled with pain and worries? That's because people are superficial. You're only as depress as your story makes you out to be.

A Return to Cupcakes

2011-03-10T08:45:00.000-08:00

I have never been a real fan of cupcakes. If you've heard me rant before, either on this blog or in person (forgive me, I can get very agitated when I'm talking about cupcakes), my real issue with cupcakes is that they are basically bimbo dessert - They look good on the outside, frosting piped into a lovely swirl, sitting atop a pretty ceramic tier, but take a bite into one and you'll soon realize how grossly mistaken you have been. Not only are most frosting cloyingly sweet and oily, the cupcake base itself is mostly dry and tasteless.

My aunt recently brought up the idea of baking a batch of cupcakes for Raheel's (my little cousin, soon to be 4) birthday in April, and the reason why I jumped at the opportunity is because I've found a great frosting recipe. Technically, if you insist on being technical, it's not a frosting recipe. It's a pastry cream I discovered while attempting Pierre Herme's chocolate eclairs. While the eclairs failed horribly (batches after batches of deflated eclairs, talk about an ego-buster), the pastry cream turned out delish. It wasn't as heavenly as how the other bloggers described it to be, but great all the same. The kind of 'great' that you won't mind poking your fingers into every now and then just to get a taste of that addictive pastry cream.

I think it'll make an excellent cupcake frosting paired with a simple vanilla or chocolate base. It's embarrassing, but I'm kinda excited. I can't wait to get started.

One of the few blogs that I visit regularly is Half-Baked - The Cake Blog. It's really something like an inspiration page for party planning, and I've seen some great parties showcased on the blog. The little details and creativity that goes into each party is nothing short of amazing. Just seeing how the colours and pattern from the table runner coordinates with the cake, and little table place cards, is enough to put me into an "I-wanna-plan-a-party-mode". While that dream is currently unattainable, seeing how there's no one to plan a party for, and I hate planning one for myself, Raheel's birthday is a good place to start.

Most of the parties featured on Half-Baked serve cupcakes at the dessert table, and a little something they add to the cupcake to jazz it up, is a cupcake topper. I'm thinking of doing one for Raheel's cupcakes. Oh ok ok, I'd admit, I've actually already came up with some cupcake topper designs. Check this out:

It scares me how easily excited I get over these seemingly insignificant stuff; cupcake toppers, cupcake frosting. You would think that a girl my age should rather be interested in more important issues, like how to get an internship for instance, or how to salvage my depressing stats marks. But no, its is patterned paper and chocolate pastry cream that sets my heart aflutter, and that keeps me up at night.

2010-12-27T21:17:00.000-08:00

I did it! I finally bought the book. There was a lot of hesitation, a lot of finger twiddling as I pace the bookshop, staring longingly at the book....but I finally bought the book! *cue war cry*

It was a Christmas present from my aunt. She was at a loss for what to get me and I simply suggested: Why don't you get me the book? I really want it, plus kino is giving 20% off now, and I know you would feel really bad if you don't get me a present so.... As you can see, I'm not very good at being subtle.

I'm going to do things a little differently this time. Instead of devouring the book immediately, mentally listing now the recipes I would love to make, I would only look at the book when I feel like baking, pick out a recipe, and look no more. This way I can delay my gratification!

Brilliant huh?

Mini Fruit Tartlets

2010-12-17T00:47:00.000-08:00

I know that a diligent food blogger would proceed to giving you a detailed account of how this tart actually came into being a tart. A minute, precise recitation of the ingredients would soon follow the diligent food blogger's account, followed by an excited declaration to whip up another batch of tarts in no time, but I am not a diligent food blogger, and I feel no pleasure in forcing myself to remember what has already pass. I will blog whatever I fancy and today, I fancy talking

I met with quite a few obstacles trying to whip up these mini tarts. To begin with, mini tarts are not at all similar to how normal sized tarts (and by normal, I mean whatever tart size rings I have in my kitchen) are baked. You don't just simply roll them out, cut little circles, fit a baking sheet over them and pop them into the oven. Noooo, you use aluminum foil instead! That prevents the edge from charring, that is the secret! And, to make sure that the bottom fits the tin perfectly, you have to use a ball of dough and press the circle of dough against the tin. Even

after all these discoveries, my little tarts still remain a little bit too thick, a little bit too hard. A lot of practice to go, I guess.

I'm tempted to get Herme's other book - Chocolate Dessert, but somehow, I cannot get past my self reproach to do it. Somehow, I think that I have to at least attempt 8 recipes from the book that I have now before I am "allowed" to get another. So far the count is - lemon loaf, chocolate tart, tropical tart, and fruit tart. That's 4, and technically fruit tart is not counted because I made the pastry cream using a recipe not included in the book. A long way to go.

Pierre Herme's Chocolate Tart with macerated raisins

2010-12-02T21:55:00.000-08:00

I finally lifted my lazy ass, and overcame my fear of spewing batter, to bake another one of Pierre Herme's recipes from his book "Dessert". This time, I opted for the chocolate tart with macerated raisins and caramelized bananas. The entire experience thus far has taught me, if anything, that the typical baker at home undergoes a wholly different experience as that of any chef on Asian Food Chanel (I'm talking to you Anna Olsen). I know you heard this all before, but please let me finish, talking about my ordeal makes me feel better about it, and if there's no one around to hear me ramble on about my less than perfect baking experience, then at least I can shoot this post out into the vast digital space. Less comforting, but I'll make do.

So yes, the typical baker does no waltz into her pantry and come out with her arms full with butter, eggs and what have you not, her face aglow with the prospect of whipping up yet another delicious, sure-to-make-you-popular dessert. The typical baker, spends 20 minutes with her head stuck in the fridge looking for that god-damn butter, and then another 10 mins fitting back into the fridge everything she taken out to find for that block of fats. And when she finally emerges from the pantry- no, no, the typical baker does not have a well stocked pantry fully air-conditioned to combat the sweltering heat of the island, the typical baker has a fridge half the size of her body- so when she emerged from the fridge, her face dotted with beads of perspiration, she suddenly remembers she forgotten the egg. That is the tale of your typical home baker. A tale studded with struggles of falling baking tins and messy ovens.

Overcoming all the perils of my typical kitchen, I finally manage to bake my very first tart. I am rather please with the results. It doesn't look too pretty, being slightly charred at the rim, but it taste great. There's something strangely satisfying about baking a tart that you can't get from whipping up batches of cupcakes and cookies. I think it has to do with all that waiting - the 24 hours wait for the dough to rest in the fridge, the 30 mins wait for the rolled out dough to rest again between layers of Gladbake, and the 20 mins wait for the dough in the tart tin to rest, yet again. With all that waiting, when you finally have something presentable, something edible before your eyes, its a great feeling, it really is.

So will I try another recipe? Another tart? I can't wait!

2010-05-31T22:49:00.000-07:00

So I sit here, writing this post, with my lemon loaf beside me tucked tightly into a Tupperware. Was it great? No, it wasn’t. In fact, the baking process was rather painful. For one thing, despite my assertion that I did enter the kitchen prepared; read the recipe thrice, googled the recipe, bought the ingredients, I was anything but prepared. Ingredients were measured wrong, and I had to constantly thumb through the pages of the book to clarify certain terms. What does he mean when he says ‘sugar”? - Is it caster sugar? Brown sugar? Granulated sugar? Information I should have found out way before I started, now I could almost hear my mother’s voice, preaching about the merits of a prepared cook.

What went wrong, you ask? Well apparently, despite measuring the dimensions of my tin, and ascertaining that it complements the dimensions suggested in the book, the tin was still too small. 20 minutes into the oven, the loaf started spewing batter. Oh, it was horrible! Yellowish, lemon speckled batter was spewing out a little hole that had formed on the side of the loaf which was already beginning to rise. If I was press to find analogy which could accurately describe what was going on in that oven, I would say it looked kinda like pus seeping out of an open wound. Ewww, I’m sorry to put that image into your head, but its true, it did!

I had high hopes for this loaf, I tell you. The batter tasted delish. Despite my initial reservations about alcohol in dessert, the rum in this tasted wonderful. It added a certain complexity and texture to the batter. You can’t taste it immediately, it’s more of a subtle after tatse, lingering on your tongue after you’ve registered the lemon. So that was wonderful. Unfortunately, the rum did not carry through to the baked loaf. There wasn’t a trace of rum in the loaf, and if I ever try this recipe again, I’ll be sure to double the rum quantity. The loaf is also a tad bit dry, wait, I’ll take that back- The loaf is very dry. Its not as light as I was expecting. I suspect that has something to do with me, and little with the recipe. I might have whipped it too little, did not incorporate enough flour, or - this one is the biggest suspect - use the wrong cream.

Now, I have had a lot of trouble with the cream. The recipe called for heavy cream. Heavy cream? Huh? Exactly what is heavy cream? I’ve heard of full cream, whipping cream, light whipping cream, but heavy cream? I went to google it up, and was told that heavy cream is made up of 36% – 40% fat. Whipping cream can be use as a substitute for heavy cream because its fat content lies in around the same range. The whipping cream I bought had a 35.5% fat content. Technically, it’s suppose to work, but somehow I have this nagging feeling that you can’t substitute heavy for whipping just like that. I mean, if you think about it rationally, they won’t call it heavy cream and not whipping cream just because of that 0.05% of fat difference right? There must be other differences. So, again, if I’m going to try this recipe another time, I would march into Phoon Huat, and demand for somebody to explain the difference between heavy cream and whipping cream.

I’m a little disheartened, I’ll admit that. My first obstacle to domestic divinity. But if anything, I will solider on! I invested $56.00 on that book, I’m not going to give up just like that. I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth! Ahhhhhh! (cue war cry)

The Lemon Paradox

2010-05-24T19:56:00.000-07:00

“Dessert” has finally arrived. It ploughed itself on my door step last week, sandwiched between two layers of corrugated fiberboard. I must admit though that, as usual, the hype, and excitement generated before it arrived far exceeded that which was felt when it did. For one thing, there’s no smorgasbord of macaroon recipes to try, in fact, there’s not a single macaroon recipe, so there goes my “pff! I can do it so much better than you!” dream. The recipes included are also not painfully exciting. I was hoping for a greater variety of tarts to try from. Oh, and before I forget, the alcohol! What is with his fascination with alcohol and dessert!?! There’s rum in an innocent lemon pound cake, wine in poached pears, liquor in goodness knows how many other recipes. I know I’m probably offending a thousand dessert aficionados out there, who swear by the divine pairing of alcohol and dessert, but..but…I don’t drink so..I..I..I like my dessert to be alcohol-free as well :(

I am tempted to try a tart recipe immediately, but the rational voice inside my head is bidding me to take it slow. Start with something a little easier, build your confidence before getting down and dirty in something as complicated as pastry. So ok, I’ll listen to my little voice. I’ll begin my ascend to domestic divinity with a lemon pound cake.

There’s something compelling about lemon. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. The thought of lemon just sends shivers of excitement, and anticipation down my spine. This is strange because I cannot take anything sour, so many a times I have been sorely disappointed by what I thought was a mouth watering lemon dessert. Take the time I attended a class for lemon curd tart, for instance. All through the lesson, as the teacher was squeezing lemon after lemon, I could not stop imagining how fantastic the tart would taste, but when I finally forked a portion into my mouth, the tartness was so sharp that I swear I almost cried. But the thing with me and lemons is that I’m always inclined to forgive and forget with this special little fruit. I grudgingly chucked the tart into the fridge when I arrived home from bake class, swearing that my love for lemon tarts is thus far extinguished, but yet, in the morning, bright and early, I found myself schlepping to the fridge, extracting the tart, forking a portion into my mouth, only to have the entire process the night before, occur again. When will I ever learn!?!

I hope this time it’ll be different. Surely a lemon pound cake cannot be sour! I cannot wait to rub the lemon zest with the sugar between my fingers. I read that it gives off a wonderfully aromatic smell. Perhaps this time, lemon, you just might recapture my love, and retain it!

2010-05-20T00:05:00.000-07:00

I just ordered a book online. My very first online book purchase. I’m waiting anxiously at home for the book to arrive, and I must say it’s taking a mighty long time, so long in fact that I’m fearing for the worse. Surely, this cannot be happening. My first time ordering books online, and the worst imaginable thing occurs: it got lost or gasp! my order was not even processed!!! The horrors!

I know I’m over reacting here, but hear me out, and you will be convinced that I am in fact behaving in a most calm and appropriate manner. The thing is, I am depending on this book to change my life. There I’ve said it! What’s the book call, you ask? It’s “Dessert” by Pierre Herme- the father of pastry, the god of dessert, and in the not too far future (read: when that darn book arrives), my savior. Somehow, I’ve got it into my mind that the moment the book touches my hands; I’ll be transformed into a domestic goddess ala Nigella Lawson. Never mind that I’ll probably won’t be able to find most of the ingredients featured in the book on our sunny island, or if we do find these precious ingredients, they’re going to cost so much that we can only afford to make it once a year. We’ll also ignore the fact that most of the recipes are probably going to be so complicated that this domestic goddess wannabe will probably give up before she could even finish reading the recipe. We’ll just put all these nasty, vile, realistic thoughts behind us, and concentrate on the fact that domestic goddess status is just a few pages away.

Really, I tell you, the inspiration is just overwhelming. I look at those petite delish macaroons photographed on those ego-bashing food blogs, and no longer am I salivating at the unreachable, instead its “Pff, I can do that too, wait till I get my hands on that book!”. And when I taste sub-standard dessert, I no longer groan at the impossibility of finding decently priced sweet goodness in Singapore, instead its “Pff, I’m going to put you out of business, wait till I get my hands on that book!”.

I am still waiting for “Dessert”. The status on my “status checker” reads dispatched. Well, it better be. Hopes are at stake, and if dashed, I just might become murderous.

The Grinch that is me.

2010-01-01T03:04:00.000-08:00

I was walking along Orchard Road the day after Christmas when I found myself staring at the festive lights and elaborately decorated (but fake) Christmas trees, with a strange negativity. I snarled at the twinkling fairy lights and then, as if I've became another person, a voice inside me spat:

"These lights should not be twinkling anymore damnit! These lights should not even be there!" and then when turned to face the enormous purple (an ugly shade of purple too, might I add) Christmas tree planted in front of Ion, that same voice hissed:

"Down tree! Down!"

What is with all these negativity, Rachel? Sure Christmas is over, but just as you have some of that Christmas log cake left inside the fridge, waiting to be consume as tomorrow's breakfast, tomorrow's tea and, whatdahell, tomorrow's dessert, the decorations on the streets of Orchard need time to disappear too. Why then do the snarling voice inside me insist that they disappear as soon as the festive is over?

I've been pondering hard about this question, over log cake of course. I'm quite sure I'm on the brink of unlocking one of those many doors of my psyche. My theory is this:

When the festive decorations first went up, they served as a reminder of what is to come; the smell of bake Christmas goodies in the air, the presents to be receive, the log cakes to be consume. Of good times to come. But now Christmas is over, these lights and trees are a reminder that these good days are over and strangely, they didn't measure up to your expectations; the gingerbread men you worked so hard on turned out looking like mini incredible hulks because of the green icing you screwed up, the tragic number of presents you received (but one mustn't complain, recession! recession!) and the log cake you have to get rid of. And seeing how close Christmas is to the start of a new year, a reminder of bad days to come for all students.

2009-12-28T08:09:00.000-08:00

My Levi's Slim Cut Jeans and I ... we have a love-hate relationship.

I love him for showing me that fantasies do come through. When I have spent the better half of my 19 years of life (Im exaggerating but humor me) ogling at stick skinny girls and how slim cut jeans just seem so right for them, he showed me that slim cut can work for me too. He elongate my pins and made then look like they go on forever, and for that, I love him.

But there are days where I just feel like ripping him apart. He stifles me so much. Plastering so close to my skin that lifting myself into the car becomes almost a Herculean task. I hate him for that and would sometimes find myself scratching angrily at my denim plastered thigh hoping, that by some miraculous chance, he might feel the pain.

But despite all our trials and tribulations, I will never break it off with my Levi's Slim Cut, you see, he's just too pretty an arm candy.

"Mama tells me that I shouldn't bother, that I ought to stick to another" jeans. But she doesn't know life. Life only throws you one pair of perfect jeans. I won't be able to find another one like my Levi's Slim Cut. I am quite sure of that. I had my fair share of Lee's and Zaras, and believe me, they do not come close to the bliss my Levi's Slim Cut has brought me. Sure it blocks the circulation to my legs, and is, I sometimes think, the modern equivalent of bound feet, but hey! Beauty has it's price.

2009-08-21T01:05:00.000-07:00

I love goodie bags. Absolutely love'em. if there are still things that can incite child-like excitement in me, it'll be buffets, dessert and then goodie bags. It's knowing that there's something in that bag worth drooling over, be it ice-cream vouchers (sometimes my likes do overlap), movie vouchers or little packets of tidbits and only when you can get a quiet moment to yourself and an open table to spread your goodies out will you be able to ascertain what's really inside, that's sends thrills down my spine. And of course, it does take a certain degree of willpower not to start rammaging in it immediately for all of public to scrutinize and adopt a seemingly nonchalant look, "I don't care about what's inside. I'm too old for goodie bags" till the aforementioned 'quiet moment to yourself"

Goodiebags are rank higher than Ang-pows.

To me that is.

2009-08-18T19:59:00.000-07:00

Observation 1:

Being stuck in a class full of complete strangers for 3 hours brings out the violent nature in me.

Here we are sitting in class, listening to a mind boggling lecture on accounting. Fine, mind boggling only to me cause despite my ardent love for money, I cannot get my hands around how to calculate it the proper, official way. So as I was saying, mind boggling lecture and my stomach is growling because using your brain uses up glucose which in turn makes you hungry. And that summarises the best thing I've learned in JC Bio, gone are all the guilty pangs after carelessly snacking away during revision periods because now I know, its completely natural. My stomach was growling, I was trying hard understand and then suddenly I heard a giant "CRUNCH". Like the crisp cracking of a cracker when you crush it between you teeth, only this time it was the crisp cracking of a wanton. I sat up immediately to scout the room for that bastard and I spotted him sitting at the front row, carefully guiding the wanton with a satay stick into his mouth and then, as if completely on cue, another 'CRUNCH". Each "CRUNCH" driving another pang of hunger into the abyss of my stomach. I know I'm exaggerating, but things are exaggerated when you're bored and starved. The violent impulse I felt towards that bastard can at best be described as murderous. I thought of a thousand (again, exaggerating but humor me) ways to make it pay for his oblivion to the plight he was causing his fellow class mates. But eventually, as it was with all my evil schemes, I decided to just stare at him and then if I caught his eye immediately dart mine to the "NO EATING" sign pasted in front of the class. Needless to say, catching his eye wasn't very easy seeing that his was concentrated at intervals on his wanton and then the lecturer, as if to tell her "No worry Prof, I might be enjoying myself chomping on my wanton but I'm still paying full attention to your math!"

Observation 2:

My timetable sucks. Which is weird since i thought it was pretty ok till I had to actually live it. And knowing that your time table suck, sucks because basically you planned it. I planned it. So if it sucks, its probably my fault. Which it is. I bided badly.

2009-08-10T22:42:00.000-07:00

School is starting soonish and my stomach is churning with ... excitement? Hardly. More like apprehension. If the last week has been a extrapolation ( so stats does improve your vocab!) of my university life, then I better find a stone big enough for me to hide under.

Let me list my series of unfortunate events. It started off with a disastrous haircut (hello hat collection!). Whoever said that your hairstylist is your best friend, confidante, person-who- knows-exactly-what-you-need was lying straight to your face. Up to this day, there are still certain individuals on Earth who does not understand the meaning of "Please just salvage the fringe. Do not touch the back." Just my luck that this certain individual happens to be my hairstylist. If I were not such a law abiding citizen (watch that halo glow), I swear I would commit arson.

But wait there's more, as I've mentioned before the word is "series". Freshman camp has been if anything a stark reminder of my skills, or lack thereof, to make friends. God could say 'Here, Rach, let me help you out a bit.", throw me into a room full of peers desperate to network like crazy and I would still emerge single. A lone wolf unable to draw those fine silvery imaginary networking lines. But oh well, I'll suck it up.... like a very brave...lone wolf.

And then there's the course bidding system we all have to do for Uni. Me being such a miser with my money, its not surprising that I've been out-bided the last two rounds. Really, its like someone up there have decided to give me an overview of my most pressing flaws. You're a loner, a miser and have just really bad luck (kudos to Mr Hairstylist for reaffirming that very last flaw, although technically my luck, or lack thereof, is not exactly a flaw, but we'll just leave it as that to prevent us from going into some attempt at philosophical ramblings). What has a girl got to do to chalk up some self-esteem before this huge transition in her life? And the worst thing about it all, the brother is starting to adopt a very comforting tone when he's around me.

Upon noticing the strange lack of opinions on the dinning table:

-"Oh come on, quit the act people. Someone must've warned you. I know my hair sucks! "

-"You cut your hair? I don't see any difference" Liar! Its at least an inch shorter!

Upon realizing the consequences of my miser-ish (is there even such a world!?!) behavoir:

-"OMG I've just lost all my bids!"

-"Don't worry I'm sure there are others just like you!"

No, no, no, this cannot do. I refuse to be comforted by the brother! I'm not sitting by doing nothing about this attack on my esteem, mind you, I've taken some very concrete steps in lifting my emotions before the big day and the come in the form of; chocolate, muffins, ice cream and milo. When all else fails, they don't :)

2009-07-24T02:31:00.000-07:00

As usual I've been blog hopping recently. I'm not sure if its my low self esteem kicking into place or if its the general reaction of just about everyone, but...blog hopping makes me hang my head in shame. These people update so often! And here I am complaining away about having nothing to write about, insisting that writing about your day to day happenings isn't exactly considered "something to write about" and well, just being plain lazy. I mean, its about time I realise that despite my strict standards of what is and what is not "something to write about", most people apparently derive quite a bit of enjoyment reading about well, day to day happenings. So I guess if you can't beat them, join them. Here is my day so far:

I woke up this morning, a little grumpy. I'm not a morning person which is understandable since the bloody sun shines into my eyes the minute I open them . To think that it was I who choose the bed facing the window instead of the one tuck in the shade because "I wanted to feel the sun in the morning, Mummy!". Ah the consequences of a naive youth! So I lay in bed trying to remember what I dreamt about the night before. A curious thing to do you say? Not quite, seeing that I've been reading this book about dreams or more precisely, dream interpretation. Which is another cause to make me hang my head in shame. I bought the book "Dreams and Conflict' during my trip to Cambridge 2 years ago and have only now began flipping through the pages. If its any excuse, I only bought the book because it was cheap, I felt like I had to buy at least one thing during my entire trip and because it was old looking. And I have a strange fascination for old stuff. I did try to start on it the minute I came back to Singapore but the truth is, the English it was written in was so archaic that it was quite a chore to get through. It still is now but the guilt has made it more bearable.

So "Dreams and Conflict", there's not much to write about the book cause I haven't gotten quite far yet and also because most of the theories Dr Rivers (That's the author) propose would seem quite absurd in today's scientifically driven world. Oh and that leads me to another book that I've just completed, "The Black Swan". Well, to be completely truthful, I didn't complete the entire book. Almost, I skipped two chapters. But its only because the author suggested in a foot note that "non-technical readers should skip to the last chapter", which I found to be very sweet of him because the two chapters were indeed very very technical and also because the little foot note made skipping the two chapters less heavy on my conscience. I know I ought to now give a brief summary about "The Black Swan" since I've introduced it in this paragraph but I'm not going to. I tried. I really did but deleted the few sentences I typed. Its complicated to summarise and I'm a little brain dead now so we'll just leave it for another day. So it has come to my notice that writing about your day to day happening isn't as hard as I thought it would be. I expected stopping after every sentence, thinking how to go on but so far its been quite a breeze. As you can see, I've typed two paragraphs already! *triumphant smile*

I think the secret lies in free association. You just type whatever comes to your mind without bothering to complete what you were writing before. Like this: When I think "What did I do in the morning?" it leads me to think about "the bloody sun" which leads me to remember "ah yes, I was trying to recall what I was dreaming" which naturally resulted in me bringing up "Dr River's Dreams and Conflicts" which made me recall that I have read "the really hard to summarise book, The Black Swan". I think I just might be getting the hang of this "write about your day to day happenings" movement. Yay me! And so sorry to all those who have to read this blog entry about my random nothing-ness.

2009-07-12T03:39:00.000-07:00

I was coming down the bridge today when I thought I saw someone I havn't seen for quite some time now but had always been longing to meet again. His build from behind was quite like how I remembered it to be; slightly short, broad shoulders. His hair was a short crop, which is all fine since if anything, a short crop on a guy these days is a sign of he being my age. I bend forward to get a better look. "Turn over! Turn over!" I thought to myself. I found I had never quite forgotten his face and if this guy would just turn around now, I'll be sure if he is him. After much squinting on my side, he finally did and I realized to my disappointment that it was not to be. I sat down on the bench at the bus stop a little breathless, my heart beating unnaturally hard against my chest. I frowned, puzzled, and then I recalled I had just descended a flight of 40 odd steps.

The Secrets to a Good Hiding Place

2009-06-28T00:57:00.000-07:00

So its the brother's exam next week and the father has issued a decree that there shall be no Internet usage in the house until then. Being the child with the best track record for obedient behaviour, I've been given the very noble job of the modem keeper. Its a simple job really. Hide the modem, protect the modem and when its location is compromised, defend the modem. It reminds me vaguely of those counter-insurgency rules; clear, hold, build. I'm up against pretty tough enemies (aka the brother and the sister) but then again, I'm pretty good at hiding stuff.

Now, like counter insurgency, there are some basic rules to follow if you want to locate a good hiding place. Firstly, its has to be inconvenient. Somewhere the searchers think it might be but are too lazy to bend down/climb up/squeeze through to get at. Secondly, it must be obvious. Somewhere the searchers would look at and go "Surely, she couldn't be so dumb as to hide it there!" and lastly it must not be a reflection of your character. I've got the perfect anecdote to expound on the last rule.

A few years back, I was obsess with the Hitchhiker's series and refused to put it down even on family outings (like I said, obsessed). As my Dad has always emphasized that family outings should be opportunities for conversations (which becomes very crucial when the stony silence in the car overwhelms someone enough for him/her to remark "This is so boring!)", the book soon became a problem. So it seemed like the most "logical" thing for him to do was to... steal it (It runs in the family. We resort to the most extreme measures to solves seemingly mundane problems.) And that's exactly what he did. He took the book away and hid it.

I know my father well. Pretty well I must say. If he were to hide something, the one word to describe his choice of hiding place would be "convenient". This demonstrates the importance of last point- Know Thy Enemy. Using these pointers, I narrowed the search scope down to his room. He wouldn't bother making the effort to go anywhere else to hide it. Then in his room, the scope is further narrowed to hiding places at his waist level. How about places above his height or below his waist? Out of the question! Too much effort bending down and reaching up. Following these simple rules, I found my book hidden under his blanket. Pretty simple eh?

With these same rules as my guideline, I decided that the best place to hide the modem would be in the parent's room, hidden in a luggage against the wall. And there it laid, open to plain sight for a total of 5 days. On the fifth day however, they found it. I must give him credit though, he didn't gloat or announce his find but placed the modem back into its hiding place after use. That's a pretty smart move. Announce it and you can bet on the hiding place eing changed the next day. Be quiet and you can visit you prize whenever they're not looking. How then did I find out? That leads me to my fourth point on hiding tactics- Support And Counter-Intelligence. Or in layman terms, Spies. I was informed of my hiding place being compromise almost immediately by a previously planted mole and upon closer inspection of the crime scene realized, that really the signs of a break in are quite obvious. The luggage was displaced, the zip not shut properly and probably what is probably the most obvious sign- The telephone placed beside the luggage beeping conspiciously from being stepped on. I had failed.

Yes indeed, I had failed and I announce my discovery to the evil duo.

"You're busted" I said, "I know you found the modem."

"But I'm pretty insulted" the father said ( Break-ins need to be reported to the boss immediately) "You didn't even bother to cover your tracks. Are we goons to you? "

"Its all her fault" the brother argued looking sulkily at the sister (ah! Now we're getting somewhere, blame shifting always reveals the Master Mind.) "I told her to hide it and she did it so sloopily. Didn't even bother to move the zip back to the centre!"

"So you're were the one given instructions! You were the one who organize the search party!?!

" boomed the father in mock anger.

Sheepish grin. Then evil glare at the sister.

"We must not have internal conflict" she whispered into his ear.

2009-05-18T21:03:00.000-07:00

You know what I really dislike? People who chance upon something that works and milk it for all it's worth. That's fine if its a business strategy or some study formula you chanced upon but if we're talking about the creative industry then that's just a sign of plain laziness.

Case in point: The Little Nonya. So ok, you've created a period drama that has become a prime time hit, that has lured even the most adamant "I DO NOT watch channel 8" member of the public (yours truly being one such person) to actually.....kinda enjoy the drama. Well done you! Next step, find another theme that can pique as much interest not create a musical with the same theme, on the same premise and hell, even use the same actors. The lack of creativity and the expectation that the public will be similarly entice to catch a sub-standard musical spin off of their favorite TV hit is just so disappointing. Even if you insist on squeezing a good idea dry of opportunities, at least do a commendable job and get trained theatre actors to do the job.

Another example of blatant lack of creativity is the artist Damien Hirst. Oh really, artist is too much of a compliment, he is no artist, he is a business man. His entire career so far can be summarised like this: Hmm, I see people like to see animal carcass preserved in formaldehyde, ok let me do another carcass, this time I shall cut it into half. Ah they love it, I shall do another carcass, this time I shall give it a golden horn and yet another carcass, and another.... You get my drift.

In all honesty, the first time I saw Hirst formaldehyde work, I was shocked into admiration. This is one interesting artist, I thought. But when you start replicating the concept of your work, no amount of philosophical musings printed on a small card hung below your art piece can hide the fact that this is merely a business strategy to bring in ten of hundreds of thousands of dollars. And that's just my rantings on his preserved carcasses do not get my started on his butterflies.

2009-04-19T19:04:00.000-07:00

Some people are born into "cool-ness", others have "cool-ness" thrust upon them, and yet other group tries to be cool but fall flat on their face; I learned that the hard way today.

So its a Monday morning and in order to chase away the Monday blues, I've decided that it'll be a great time to wear my Zara heels. A pair of shoes I simply adore but have yet gotten the opportunity to don them. Wearing them to the office would be an ideal debutante for these gorgeous heels; you make a grand entrance with them and then proceed to sitting down the entire day so their height will not kill you.

These heels certainly make you feel cool. Why? Because, as I've mentioned before, they've got height. Not so tall as to make people whisper "Giangantes" behind you but that kinda height that will make people go "she's so tall" and as their eyes travel to your heels "Oh! Chey! Its the shoes la!". So there I am, sitting proudly at my seat on the MRT, imagining every other passenger admiring my shoes and when its my stop, I got up and walked slowly towards the door. Slowly because I wanted to give these poor dreary passengers as much time as possible to scrutinize the shoes...in action! And it was at this moment, the train came to a sudden halt. Maybe "sudden" might not be quite an accurate word to describe the moment since it is a fact generally acknowledge that a train halts when it has come to a stop at the train station; no use acting all surprise over it. My left ankle twisted on itself and I found myself struggling to keep myself upright and at the same time imagining that the other passengers were not all already staring at me. Oh! The irony! The embarrassment!

If that were the end of my series of unfortunate events, I would have considered myself lucky. But upon exciting the train station I realised to my horror, it was raining. Considering that if I were to wait out the rain I would be terribly late, I decided to make a dash for it. Bad idea! Remember the shoes I was raving about, the oh-so-gorgeous heels? Well, they don't do so well on a slippery floor. I had to walk across to the next building with the rain beating heavily down on my shoulders. WALK! And to think that just a while ago I was listening happily to Neil Sedaka's "Laughter in the rain". Pff! Certainly no laughter in this rain for me, not even a giggle!!

I suppose I've been taught a lesson but the great-force above. Some people try to be cool and fall flat on their face. I'm a testament to that. Thank heavens these wise words are merely figurative; there was a high chance of me falling flat on my face.

29th March

2009-03-28T14:04:00.000-07:00

Its our last night in Switzerland and, as such moments usually are, I have been thinking about all the things I'll will miss once back in Singapore so that tomorrow I can look at them with increase appreciation. The weather for instance, despite being very chilling at times, lends a beauty to all the sights around. It adds a spring to your step. Unbelievable, I know, but that's exactly how I feel. Even the Basel World fair seemed to have increase in interest as our stay closes to an end. Of course, I would love to stay longer but there are stuff to do back home. If anything, my absence from home has made me determined to attack these task with increase vigor. The wonders of "absence" never ceases to amaze me. It messes with your pysche, I tell you.

There are plenty of photos I have yet to post up and if fatigue and melancholy for my departure was not creeping up upon me, would have been please to do so. But I have to get some sleep now in anticipation for the mad rush to get souvenirs tomorrow.

27th-28th March

2009-03-27T13:57:00.000-07:00

I didn't have the strength to blog yesterday, the Basel World fair left us totally exhausted and we fell asleep upon washing up. Basel is totally unlike Lucern, its more modern and less charming, so despite having to travel an hour by train to Basel very morning, I am happy to be staying at Lucern. The beginning of the fair was verr boring for me, although Dad seemed to have been enjoying himself and was determine that I should to when he asked me to pose for this photo. "Look here! Smile Rachel!" As apparent, I was very reluctant to have my photo taken.

On the way home we got some chocolates from the famed chocolataire, Sprungli, at the Basel Train Station. I bought the Luxemburgerli and assorted truffles. The Luxemburgerli resembles a macaroon but instead of the sweet filling a macaroon has between the puffs, it uses fresh flavoured cream instead. Now that makes a whole lot of difference. The reason I never did like macaroons is because its overwhelmingly sweet, and the Luxemburgerli did away with that problem entirely. The fresh cream was light and soft, and the flavour was a very mild essence which complimented the pastry perfectly. I was really pleased with the taste and am tempted to get some back home to surprise the non-macaroons lovers at home.

The truffles were also unlike anything I've ever tasted before. The centre filling was once again made of fresh chocolate cream which was incredibly light to taste and rich all the same time. Needless to say, I enjoyed it thoroughly and was rather hesitant to let Dad get a taste. Fortunately, the filial daughter that I am overcame the selfish chocolate lover, and both Dad and I savoured our little treats on the train ride back to Lucern.

Back at Lucern, it was dinner time. We decided to go Italian and dined at a Pasta and Pizza place by the river, of course this time we decided against AL fresco due to obvious reasons which I took pain to narrate in my previous post. We ordered a seafood pasta, ravioli and pizza.

I didn't fancy the seafood pasta, never was a seafood fan. It was a pity though because the pasta was the thick homemade variety that I liked. The ravioli, which was my particular order, wasn't very tasty either. It tasted almost liked uncooked Chinese dumplings. We couldn't finish it eventually and everyone started staring at me because apparently despite all agreeing to share everything before we ordered, it was a crime to watch the dish you ordered go unfinished. Pff! The pizza tasted average though its price was anything but average. Overall I enjoyed the environment but not so much the food.

25th March, Wednesday

2009-03-25T05:55:00.000-07:00

Dad's friend brought us to Interlaken today where it snowed. This time, a lot. It wasn't like yesterday where what you saw was the remnants of snow, today we walked in snow. On the way to Interlaken, we stopped for a photo opportunity. These are the pictures we took:

There were plenty of things I wanted to try in the snow; snow angels for instance, snow man, snow fights, all which I couldn't do because Dad's friends was waiting for us to get back into the car. I would think its pretty inappropriate if you're designing the expression on your snow man's face while he waits in the freezing cold. But I couldn't resist falling back onto it. Snow is actually surprisingly soft, totally unlike the fake snow they generate at snow city. Haiz, its at time like this where you wish there were a brother or sister around to throw snow at. Dad's feeble attempts at a snow fight was really laughable.

24th March, Tuesday

2009-03-24T10:03:00.000-07:00

We slept at 3pm on Monday and woke up at 5am today. Actually Dad woke me up with "Rach! Its snowing!", I got up of bed half awake to look through the window and indeed, although the sky was dark, I could see snow falling. For the first time in my life, I had seen snow! And what luck too, since its Spring in Europe now, snow is a very rare thing. I got up of bed immediately to take a few shots of the snow covered cottage tops to firstly- commemorate this moment, and secondly- make my siblings back at home, green with envy! :)

Ok, so maybe I got a little carried away with the photos; taking snow covered buildings at 5am, snow covered buildings at 6am, snow covered car and snow covered trees. But, its SNOW! So there are never enough snow covered things to capture on film.

We did not do much today because Dad had to work. We took a drive to this factory in the middle of a small town, in the middle of no where. The factory was really quaint. It worked with really old machines and has a show room constructed with pieces of antique furniture. Since they also create customised guns, I got to hold my very first gun. Alright, nobody actually asked me if I wanted to hold the gun , I just took it off the table on impulse, but nobody got hurt although there was a shuffling of feet when I swung around with the barrel pointed at the group. This scene reminds me of the movie "Yes man", when Zooey Deschanel's character swung around with a loaded rifle. My gun wasn't loaded, lucky them.

*In my hands are 2 rifle bullets and 1 pistol bullets.

*That's Dad , hard at work with his 2 friends.

Also at the factory, we had pickle sandwiches for refreshments. I am not a fan of pickles, I usually pick it out of my cheese burgers back home, so I looked at the plate of sandwiches with skepticism at first but eventually I remembered Mum's words "Just try everything. There's no harm in trying.". Those words motivated me to try my very first pickle sandwich. I was also, no doubt, motivated by a growling stomach, although I assure you, that played only a very small role. The pickle in the sandwich was in placed in the middle of several cheese slices and a garlic cheese spread. It had an interesting taste; the garlic cheese was the most empowering taste and reduced the pickle to just a sour after note, which was just fine for a non-pickle fan. They also had an assortment of cookies for us. Now, I'm a cookie fan but the cookies were not a hit.

It was 6 hours later when we finally made our way back to Lucerne for lunch. Too exhausted for any more walking, we took it at the hotel. Being not very hungry myself, I opt for dessert only (cause there's always room for dessert) while Dad was more adventurous (actually it was under my persuasion) and ordered the Lucern specialty. I choose a tangerine tirimisu (haha Charlotte, don't drool!) with raspberry sauce.

It had an impressive presentation, the taste was not too bad either although not fantastic. I especially like the sweet tangerines within the tirimisu, it gave an otherwise very rich dessert, a refreshing aftertaste.

The Lucerne speciality is actually a veal dish; a puff pastry topping veal meatballs and veal cubes swimming in a homemade brown sauce, accompanied with vegetables. The restaurant we were at for lunch yesterday also served this dish, I didn't order it because all the experience I had with veal had been bad and I didn't want to ruin my lunch, we had to order it today because the menu was very limited; it was either this or flaming tart again! I'm glad I tried it because this dish was simply delish. The veal meatballs were so incredibly tender, it didn't have that over powering beefy taste, which we Cantonese call "soh". Veal cubes too, although tougher in comparison, was just as tasty. My only complain was of the puff pastry, it wasn't as light and flaky as I would have like it but that's a minor issue considering how much we enjoyed our lunch. As usual, despite my small appetite, I ended up eating almost the entire dish because Dad was on his "diet". But not a problem for me!

We're skipping dinner tonight, its back to the hotel room for work now. Got to help Dad go through lotsa photos for his catalogue, so its not all play and no work here. So far we've seen 150 photos and that's only for 2 albums, there are 3 more to go.

Its Interlaken tomorrow!

23rd March, Monday

2009-03-23T07:37:00.000-07:00

I' m back from our little tour around the town and am please to say that we did indeed make it to the Lion Monument, Glacier Gardens and The Hall of Mirrors. Of all these, the Lion Monument was the least disappointing. Although "The Lion" was truly a heart wrenching piece of art, for most if was simply a photo opportunity. I did get to show off my knowledge of the Lion, Dad was sort of force into hearing the entire history of the Lion. Although I was expecting him to ask enthusiastically "Hmm, I wonder what this Lion is about. Do you know Rachel?", an "Ok ok , go ahead tell me what the Lion is about" after my persistent "Do you know the history of the Lion? Huh Dad, do you know its history?", is something I can settle for.

Now, since I had so much practise recounting the story of The Lion, I think I should do it now just once more. I am determind to retell the story as many times as I possibly can seeing how much effort I had spend on reading up its history on wikepedia. So here goes: The Lion or The Dying Lion, was a scultpure done by the artist Thorvaldsen to comemorate the death of 700 Swiss Mercenary soliders during the French Revolution. The soliders who were paid to defend the Tuileries Palace where King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were hiding, put up a brave fight but eventually perish. This sculpture was made in their memory. The Lion itself is indeed breath taking and its melancholy and awe strangely intensified by the sandstone it was carved into, however I found that the minuture lake in front of it rather anti-climatic.

Above are pictures of glacier portholes and of the entrance to the hole of mirrors. The Glacier Gardens is actually a museum dedicated to educating the public that Switzerland was in prehistoric times, completely covered with glaciers. They were also so kind as to give us an indepth explanation on how glacier poetholes were form but I shall not bore you with the details.
The Hall of Mirrors was, well, a hall of mirrors. Very similar to the ones you see at carnivals and fun fairs, only more lavishly designed with faux pecocks and fountains popping up here and there. I'm proud to say that I did not bang into any mirrors though. I took percautions by waving my arms widly around me as I proceeded forward; this way, I knew which path was a reflection and which you can actually walk through. Dad was just walking behind me cooly, letting me do all the waving.

And then in one of the Galcier Gardens's exhibitions I saw this wardrobe and immediately gasped, "Narnia!". Is it not a splitting image of the wardrobe used in the movie!?! I was so tempted to pull open the latch and probably would have if not for my Dad's threatening glare and a "Rachel, don't touch that!".

Then there's Chapel Bridge. You cannot leave Lucerne without walking through this bridge. It was suppose to have little 17th century painting on the inside of the bridge but most were destroyed in a fire so very few remain. This bridge remained me of the corridors of the Summer Palace in Beijing. The corridors too had paintings despicting chinese legends and myths painted on the inside. Similarities such as these always amazes me. Such as when I realise how similar a traditioal chinese opera theatre is to Globe theatre, with its 3 levels despiciting heaven, the living and hell.

After walking for almost 3 hours we took our lunch. Dad insisted we did Al fresco, by the lake. "But it's freezing!" I told him, but noooo, he did not listen and instead said "When in Rome do as the Roman does. See all those people sitting by the lake, how they're enjoying themselves?". Right, if by enjoying you meant having to take your meal with gloves on and even then have to control your shivering hands as you tried to feed yourself, then yes! I enjoyed myself throughly. The food was not bad though. I googled before hand and found out that the resturant at Hotel Schiff served good flaming tarts, we went there and not knowing what a flaming tart was, ordered it immedaiately. Turns out that a flaming tart is actually a very thin pizza! "Tart" was very misleading.
Finally here is a picture of the hotel from the entrance. There are painting of soliders adorning its walls, I could not see close enough to see if there's a story being told. One thing I did notice, there are many buildings in Lucerne with the same type of paintings on its walls.
And then because the sky has cleared enough to have a good view of the Alps from the hotel room, so here is introducing...The Swiss Alps.

2009-03-23T02:51:00.001-07:00

Its my first day in Switzerland, Lucerne, and I'm blogging directly from the hotel. I'm please to say that we got to our hotel from the airport safe and sound without any directional mis-steps, which has been my concern from the very first day. Lucerne is rather pretty, not exactly what I expected but still lovely. I had visualized a more old-village feel for the town, like you have just stepped back into time but the taxi ride round the city proved otherwise. I was surprise that there is a considerable number of modern buildings scattered about the city, especially concentrated near the train station, as you venture deeper however, the cement roads becomes brick streets and you see more bistros, corner cafes and vintage shops.

The taxi ride to our hotel was exorbitant! $20 for a 10mins ride. I had wanted to walked to the hotel from the train station having already printed out directions the week before, but Dad insisted on taking a cab. He was afraid I might get us lost! Pff! Thanks for the faith Dad!

The hotel Des Balances was located along one of those brick streets. Very quaint. I was pretty worried it might be a dingy old building because we had gotten an unbelievable deal off Internet booking and though however computerise the world has become, we were still pretty apprehensive of whether the positive comments about the hotel was all a scam. The exterior was not impressive though overlooking the Chapel Bridge. The rooms however are very pretty, modern and elegant. I am especially impress with the toilets. Toilets means a lot to us, it is of utmost important that the toilet is adequately furnish. Weird, I know, but its a family thing.

* Here is the view from our room's window. There was actually some work being done further right of the lake, but I omitted that for artistic reasons :) Besides, I've got this nagging feeling that its sewage work being done, cause now and then a weird smell whiffs into the room.

* And this is the room itself. A huge cooper framed mirror is hung in front of the bed in place of the usual television. Perhaps vanity is priority compared to entertainment here.

* And here is the fame toilet, complete with skylights and wood flooring.

Now if I get my way later, we'll be going to the Lion Monument which I hope is not too far off. In preparation for the visit, I had previously read up on the monument; who sculpted it, why it was commissioned, so that I can do a little bit of showing off later as I narrate the Lion's glorious history in a solemn and grave voice to my ignorant father. Hopefully, someone will be impress.

2009-03-18T09:28:00.001-07:00

I'm in the mood for a little infactuation. Give me a man, tolerably good looking and not ill-dispose to conversation, and I'm ready to fancy myself in love.

2009-03-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

This week will prove to be the most tedious and exhausting week I've experienced in this 3 months. There are so many task at hand and so little time. Number 1, I need to complete my university application. Just the thought of it stimulates and involuntary scrunching up of my face. Such applications are long and tiring processes and terribly bad for one's ego. Being the dilligent student that I am, I went into several forums to read the discussions that were going on about the different courses offered (although "dillgent" might be an overstatement since almost every student my age involve in the application process, has visited some forum or another, but I like to flatter myself). So now, there were student with straights As but a B in one minor subject (small problem, I would say) and they're worried that they might not get into the course they desire and here I am with many more Bs and many less As, how will I ever be able to empathise with their position! If anything, not only did a read through the forum not show me the light at the end of the tunnel, it created a very ashame and inferior me. My ego has been badly bruised and the only cure is chocolate, no make that chocolate ice cream. Ah! But no one's to blame, my results are my doing, that is clear.

Number 2:
A few weeks ago, Dad told me :"You're goin on a trip soon, Switzerland!"
Yay, cool weather, great sceneries! I can't believe my luck.
A few days ago, Dad told me: "You've got to plan the trip yourself. Everything!"
What!?! One week to plan a 6 days trip to a country I've never been before. Now, I can believe my luck. But I'm not complaning though, yes, there's pressure in my seemingly Herculean task but then again this is the first time I'll get to control everything and my planning skills will be put to the ultimate test. So there is at least a silver lining in this otherwise, dark cloud.

There's no time to lose, the amount of things that has yet to be plan is prodigous. There are hotels to book, train tickets to purchase, attractions to scout out and luggages to pack.

2009-03-16T09:16:00.000-07:00

Given the immense amount of time I had at hand (I draw your attention to the past tense used, since now time is a scarce commodity), I decided to emark on my very own Jane Austen marathon. I wasn't crazy about Pride and Prejudice, as so many Austen fans are, but it had piqued my interest and I was curious to find out how her other novels might read. Given that I did not read P&P as I should have, the natural way, and instead took the easy way out and read a synopsis of it before begining, I did not feel exitement or anxiousness over "the Eliza Darcy issue", having already know that these two will end up together right from the start. This time though I was determine to do it the old fashion way, no peeping at synopsis. I began with Emma, as I knew Gwenyth Paltrow starred in a movie adaptation of the novel so naturally I can watch the movie afetr reading the book and engage in the usual "No, no, no that was not how it was like in the novel!" and "No, she totally does'nt behave this way in the novel!" which usually accompanies movie adaptations of such nature. The movie though wasn't as bad as I expected it to be, it was in fact, pretty entertaining. The clever shift between scenes was especially humourous and comical and it won't be a streatch to say that perhaps such a shift highlighted the differeance between appearance and reality and pointed out the contradictions in the character's emotions. Gwenyth Paltrow did a commendable job as Emma Woodhouse, comparabl much much better than Kate Beckingsale who also played the title role in another adaptation produced the same year.

I loved the novel, loved smart and michievious Emma Woodhouse and though I did not fancy myself in love with Mr Knightley upon completing the story, it was a pleasant, no, a very pleasant read. One thing though, one most unfortunate thing, occured that made the experience less than perfect. I knew Emma would marry Knightley right from the start! I swear I did not peek at any synopsis. It was an accident! I chanced upon this crucial piece of information while casually looking through the foreword. Damn foreword! If I were the editior, the foreword would be right at the end and be called "backword" or 'afterword", whichever sounds better.

So that was the case for Emma. Northanger Abbey was my second Austen novel. I've got nothing nice to say about this though. I did not really like dull, childish Catherine Morland and was hoping that if anything, her romance with Henry Tilney would make up for her dullness of character. Imagine reading until the very end only to find out thay, yar Mr Tilney marries Miss Morland, but his feelings for her arise only because he was aware of her being partial to him. That is not a good reason to be in love! No indeed! That is a reason to have your vanity flattered but no reason to fancy yourself in love. I was not at all satisfied with this novel but still proceeded on to watch BBC's production of Northanger Abbey. With no eye candy either in Catherine Morland, Henry Tilney or even Isabella Thorpe, this 2 hour production was quite a chore to sit through.

Persuassion, despite being Austen's shortest novel, had the best plot, at least to me. Because I completely refrained from sneaking peeks at any synopsis, my heart was postively thumping when Captain Wentworth left "The Letter" for Anne Elliot. Whatever will he say? Does he still love her? You can just imagine the excitement. For a short story, the pacing I believe was extremely well controlled in order to be able to stir up such excitement, But then again, I'm not a literary critic, just an ardent fan, so take my comments with a pinch of salt.

2009-01-15T03:09:00.000-08:00

I had my first Elizabeth Bennet moment today.

I received a written letter in the mail (now, you can understand my excitement! How many special people gets to receive written letters via the postal system!!!). I was unprepared for what was written in the letter, i did'nt even realise who the sender was. Which if you consider my life story till this day, is an anomaly. I am never unprepared or taken by surprise. Its not a good thing mind you. I remember my 13th birthday, my friends had decided to plan a surprise party for me and as expected i found out. So it led to the very awkward situation of me having to fake astonishment when they appear at my doorstep the next morning: "OMG, why are you guys here? And just look at me, im still in my PJs". Tsk tsk, ys was right, i am a hypocrite, an unwilling one but still a hypocrite.

So now, i digress, the letter. I devoured its every word with the same excitement and anticpation i believe Elizabeth must have felt as she sat beneath the tree and digest Mr darcy's thoughts. Ahhh, Mr Darcy. I never thought myself a hopeless romantic, the scene of Colin Firth emerging from his dip in the pond, dripping wet, never did arouse my interest (or perhaps it has something to do with his face, Mr Firth isn't exactly what i would consider dashing and his dripping wet body not one of Adonis proportion). But perhaps reading that letter awoken the romantic in me. I guess victorian gestures of letter writing and subtle profession of affections does hold a soft spot in my heart.

Christmas Baking

2007-10-24T03:32:00.000-07:00

I know its a tad bit too early but we've began our christmas baking, the research part at least. We're planning to introduce carrot cakes to our menue this time round. The first few attempts made some time earlier this year did'nt quite work, they tasted fine of course, but just fine was'nt exaclty what we're looking for, so off we went researching.

Although we do realise our carrot cake was'nt exactly a winner but we still needed to find out where eactly we stand, so that only meant one thing...carrot cake shopping spree! lol yea, started off by buying two today from Post-Express Deli at the Fullerton and Room for Dessert. The one from the Fullerton (the second pic), cost a whopping $6.50. Yar, $6.50 for a mere carrot cake and i won't say it was worth every penny. Though yes, it had the moistness cum tightness we were looking for but lacked the explosion of flavours and came unfrosted, bummer. Room for Dessert's summertime carrot cake is featured in the first pic, this was'nt the first time we're trying it. Mom loves the frosting, white chocolate cream cheese. We bought 2 slices at $2.80 each. I must say it was overall a better experience compared to Post Express.

So off we go on a series of experiements, i do hope we get it right before november ends. But, carrot cake is mom's experiment, i, on the other hand, am going to try the Opera this weekend!!! I know, i know, i'm a slob in the kitchen, the opera!?! who am i kidding!?! But hey, ive gotta try, and its going to awfuly exciting assembling those layers!!

2007-10-05T04:03:00.000-07:00

Well so i guess the promos are over and like any typical teenager will do, i shall blog about my happiness which was good while it lasted. But before this i went blog hopping and i must say what i've read has been very, very, i stress on the very, entertaining. Its like the benchmark for typicality, here is what you have to do to look average:

1. Blog about the exams. How happy its over and how this happiness somehow evaporated in a day.
2. Blog about your relationships. How stupid you were, how you thought better but did it anyway. Boo hoo.
3. Blog about how pathetically conflicted you feel inside.
4. Hurl in a couple of vulgarities to sound mature, pained, agnst, emo or however you would like to call yourself.

Forgive me im stepping into dangeorus grounds here, for all i know i might be typical myself. But, haiz, this is my blog so it would in our blogger-reader relationship if you nod in agreement with whatever you seen written here.

Bleh, i give up, blogging is no fun at all. I shall do something more constructive...sleeping for instance. Very fullfilling.

2007-08-31T08:15:00.000-07:00

Why do i blog? That's a really good question taking into account that i refuse to share with anyone my blog add. Rather werid eh? I use to believe that i simply enjoy typing my feelings now but somehow this meaning is losing itself. Perhaps, perhaps, i tell myself, i might actually like a little audience. But then again, its too dangerous, you've seen the consequences, its way too dangerous.

So with that little issue cleared up, what shall i talk about today that will interest you, my dearest audience. Will scandals do? Lol what am i asing, of course scandals will do, who ever says no to a little dosage of scandal. But unfortunately, i don't have scandals, and even if i do i probably would never share it here. What's the point!?!

2007-08-17T08:22:00.000-07:00

Recently, there are few who seem to take a genuinely interest in reading my blog and have ask repeatedly for its address. Lol, I do think such an occurrence is indeed surprising and I should be congratulated for being able to create such a err…mysterious air about it. Bur really now, you guys will be sorely disappointed, for this blog simply contains the ravings of a bored 16 year old girl. No juicy gossips or vicious backstabbing. I won’t dare, yes, not even with my blog add concealed, I am that timid.
Maybe, just for fun, I might let it out, give a clue maybe. But the problem with clues are that the interest they generate don’t last. People get all geared up but soon loose the drive and strangely when that happens I feel like quite an idiot. Except for, mao, lol dear dear mao, always there with my clues. What a great friend!
Really, I do believe that‘s the ideal platonic friendship between a guy and a girl that Bryan was writing about. Mao, is just such a comfortable friend to be around. The level of ease I feel around him is unmatchable. Yes, ease, that’s the key component which signifies true friendship. Mel too, lol I bet she’ll turn green with envy reading all those stuff about Mao, but yes, mel too.

Cambridge

2007-08-12T05:43:00.000-07:00

I came into blogger, fully determined to write a descriptive, engaging and amusing overiew of my entire trip in Cambridge. But, i happen to be at a loss of words now. No funny anecdote nor dealicious recollection of the food i have eaten would find its way into my mind. I am not safe and sound back home yet, mind you, in fact, i happened to be seating in Girton's College computer room, fighting off the dorwsiness of sleep all in a bid to compete a blog entry. How very noble of me. What can i say of the past 2 weeks which would be interetsing to hear, i ponder. Was there any drop dead gorgeous hunk i met?...nope. Any mouth watering food i ate?....no. Any out of this world experience?...again no. Honestly now, i cannot think of anything. Please, do forgive me for watsing your, i presume, precious precious time, to read on about the nosensical ravings of a bored un-interetsing girl of 16years. Oh but speaking of my age, it brings me some pride to annouce that yes, i am still 16years. For you cannot imagine how many brithdays occured in just these two weeks. Birthday after birthday, song afetr song, instant cake after instant cake. Not that i have much problem witht the instant cake bit, cause suprisingly, instant cakes are not too bad tasting over here. I especially like the choclate flavoured one from Sainsbury, although a tad bit too sweet, but still indulgence.

Whipping Cream Horror!

2007-05-09T08:40:00.000-07:00

I HATE WHIPPED CREAM. I don't care, this is my blog and i can say whatever i want and now im saying......I HATE WHIPPED CREAM. Damn them! They were supposed to be the easiest frosting to make, then how come i have to redo them twice and still no get them to form stiff peaks!?! What is it they want from me? I have given them everythin; vanilla essence, sugar..gelatin. What else?

And if that's not enough stress for my poor little head, i have got toperfect 200 cupcakes by tomorrow. BY TOMORROW!!! God, if you exist, this will be a good time to extend some help. Argh!!!

2007-05-01T08:35:00.000-07:00

Do you know how much freaking trouble i had acessing this freaking website!?! Crap them! Crap everything! Damn it!I know i don't curse much, i suppose to be tiresomely demure, soft spoken and whatever polite words you have to describe a boring un-interesting person!Well that's just about it. Its horrible fluctuating between two completely different sets of personalities. He was right. It didn't strike me at first, i was more of "huh!?!" than curious and surprise. But than it dawned upon me. I am always thinking how different my two sets of personalities are, how nobody seem to notice the difference and here is somebody saying it aloud! I had to ask of course, i would'nt take it lying down. Why did you say what you said? What made you think that? Sad to say, just sad to say, he said he was joking. Joking? No really what made you say that? And he answered, i can't really blame him cause at least he tried answering, well it seems like whenever you're "pmsing" you tend to be very moody. LOL, really lol, he blames it on pms. That's a new one!

But that's not all that's going on in my tragic life (wait i can hear them crying! You!?! Have a tragic life!?! God, you have gotta be kidding). Im hating school (Don't they always?). Hating myself. (Haiz rachel, a bit of originality would be appreciated). What else is new?

2007-03-20T06:49:00.000-07:00

Was in the mood for baking today, did'nt know what sparked it off, but i just felt i had to bake some cupcakes. Must be stage one of cupcake addiction. Intially i was intending to do one with a rassberry mousse but then i found out that whipping cream was needed, and judging from my last experience with the evil un-risible whipp cream i thought it was highly inappropriate to step into dangerous grounds just yet. So i settled for an almond sponge base with chocolate butter cream. Big mistake.

Lesson learnt: Never bake on an impulse.

The cupcake itself was rather disappointing. There was a shallow pit in the middle but that was expected judging from the quantity of egg whites in it. As for the taste i could'nt really get a feel of the almond flavour. I went rather loose with the buttercream, competely ignoring measurements and the ingredient list. It turned out err....edible. Thats the best comment i can issue it. Hehehe, no measurements and random tossing in of ingredients, what could i have possibly expected!?!

2007-03-17T07:58:00.000-07:00

Finally, sucess! These cupcakes turned out beautifully. I intended to fill the insides with rose flavored cream but the mixture kept cuddling despite me attempting over and over again for 3 times in a row. Gosh the amount of cream i wasted! No matter, it tasted just as good with only the frosting on. One shortcoming though, this recepie is strictly for CHEESE LOVERS. The frosting taste almnost like a dollop of cheese cake with a refreshing aftertaste of citrus (i decided on or.ange but you can use anything you like: lime, lemon). So if you're one for cheese cakes, this is your cupcake! :)

Taste test after one day: Cupcake inadvertebly wasn't as moist as before. Frosting tasted the same, though it has lost the "melt-in-the-mouth" quality it had the day before

cupcake

57g butter
85.5g sugar
142 all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
½ cup milk
½ tsp vanilla extract
2 egg whites

1. Soften butter in the mixer at low speed
2. Drizzle the sugar in and beat till light foamy (Have to manually lift up mixing bowl)
3. Sift flour, baking powder and salt together
4. Add vanilla extract to milk
5. Add the flour and milk into the butter mixture in 3 parts, alternating between flour and milk. Beat well after each addition.
6. Set aside incorporated mixture
7. In a separate mixing bowl, beat the egg whites till foamy with soft peaks.
8. Fold eggs into incorporated mixture.
9. Bake at 190C for 20mins

Bakes 10 medium cupcakes. Fill each cup with 1 full ice-cream scoop, that should give you a good height for frosting.

Citrus Cream Cheese Frosting

29g butter
113g cream cheese
¼ tsp zest
½ tsp juice
½ cup sugar

1. Soften butter in mixer
2. Add in cream cheese, beat till combine
3 Sieve sugar
4. Add 3/4 of the sugar, juice and zest to the mixture.
5. Continue adding sugar till desired consistency and sweetness.

2007-03-04T22:12:00.000-08:00

i know i said i'll post up the pics once the frosting was piped on but surprisingly the cupcake taste changed after baking day. The cake was still fine but the filling seemed o have morphed into a more sour and very sweet version. So it seemed rather pointless to continue on with the frosting. But if you still want to try the angel cupcake minus the filling, here's the recepie. Really simple and easy to follow:

Yellow Cupcake

177g plain flour
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
¼ salt
1 egg
1 egg yolk
100g sugar
½ cup corn oil
1 tsp vanilla essence
½ cup sour cream
1, Sift all the powder stuff.
2. Beat eggs, egg yolk and sugar till it thickens and turn a crream colour
3. At low speed mix in the corn oil and vanilla essence
5. Mix in the flour
6. Bake for 20mins at 190 degrees

Makes 12 cupcakes. 1 ½ ice cream scoop for each foil.
Comments: mix more so cupcake would be more light.

so if its one thing i have learne from this cupcake is to never type in cupcake comments till a day afetr baking day!

2007-02-26T04:24:00.000-08:00

I have just finished experimenting with my yellow angel cupcake. Its not an angel cupcake really but it sounds nicer that way. I tried incoporating the recepie with a lemon curd recipie i was trying yesterday. The goal was to bake it such that the curd remians moist in the centre and acts as some sort of lemony filling for the cupcake. The results didn't turn out so bad, rather nice actually. A nice golden brown colour for the cupcake and the filling didn't get cooked in the process like the choc ganache, don't worry will post the pic up once i get the frosting on.

Taste wise, not bad, fortunately i reduced the sugar by quite a bit since the recepies are usually so so so sweet, i wonder how anyone can stomach it! Did'n really fancy the lemon curd though, i was hoping for something more light. No matter that just means more experimenting to do.

As for the frosting...the frosting....have i ever mentioned how doing the frosting is my favourite bit of cupcake making? Its something i can do all by myself wothout mom's help......kinda foolproof. I havn;t found a lemon frosting for this recipie yet so i'm thinking of coming up with one myself. Probably start with the choc frosting minus the cocoa powder, subsituiting milk for lemon juice and throwing in some zest. Colour would most probably be a pale yellow. Perfect!

Can't wait but mom's baking her orange cheese cake now so i'll just have to wait till tomorrow. You won't want to be in her way when she's baking! :)

2007-02-01T06:18:00.000-08:00

Its salsa today!! After passing my elementry lessons i thought it was finally time to don the skirt and heels. So i slipped on my favourite brown skirt and my corn coloured heels and made my way to lessons. It felt kinda weird though cause it was my first time wearing so femininly to lessons and everybody was accustomedto me in shorts and comfy tees. But its proven, wearing heels actusally does make a hell a lot of difference in your dancing, kinda gives you more confidence. So its 1-2-3 to the left and 1-2-3 to the right. Now all i need is to find a partner, im still dawith mom.

2007-01-24T01:32:00.000-08:00

Its wednesday already, that means its golf day!!! Honestly i was'nt looking forward to it, actually i kinda dreaded the entire thing. So i dragged myself to the range, slouch especially low and made faces to myself as we walked to the changing room so hopefully some one who notice the agony i was in and if possible, release me from it.

However, surprise surprise, my game went quite well today maybe even to the extend of magical. Every shot fet so smooth, so light. I was so scared that i might lose it cause it seemes so surreal, but it did'nt leave me, it just got better. Lol i felt like shouting out loud going YIPPEE!

2007-01-21T06:32:00.000-08:00

Mom's cookies are finally baked and the house is beginning to achieve a festive cheer at last. We hacve a special table placed in the hall, to be filled with goodies. Currently there are about 5 tupper wares, you know the kind with a nright red lid, out there. We have pineapple tarts(my fave), penut biscuits and penut err...puffs.

I found mom's penut cookie not bad. Dad however made a very worng decision to critise it. I can find a simlar tasting one in china town, he commented. Immediatedly, we knew that was a wrong move. Mom's face fell and you could almost see the word "INGRATE" written across her face. Knowing that he was in a muddle, Dad tried to find an allie in me "Don't you agree Rachel? Nothing fantastic right?". Lol i know better than to agree. Poor Daddy, he knew he was in trouble so he tried to salvage it by coming up with a plan. he would take a bite of the cookie and pretend that it tasted ok! He wanted to ask my opinion on his plan so all through our friday tv programme , i receive "psst" and winks from him asking "ay how, should i do it?'. Normally being the fillial daughter that i am i would give him my comments but he had to ask me in the middle of Supernatural just when the ghost was climbing out of the mirror!! So he had to do with "shhhhh. Daddy its the exciting part!!!!"

2007-01-17T03:55:00.000-08:00

Went for my first day of cca today. I've taken golf. Now my back aches, leg aches, and head aches from thinking over and over again how am i to improve my game. I played horribly today. Every swing felt so pained and forced, not like those smooth shots you see the Pros demostrate. I know i hav'nt been practicising much, went cold for one year in fact, so i shuld not expect amaxing shots but still im rather disappointed. No point grumbing on and on about it rachel, you know what to do, just practice some more.

I havn;t been updating much either. I intended too of course, came up with these wonderful paragraphs in my head and then when it really came for me to write or type it now, it felt too emotionless and tiring to go on with. Don;t have much time for my baking too. I know mom must be heaving a sign of relief, finally her teritory( the kitchen) is hers to claim again. She's planning to make some cashew nuts almond cookies for chinese new year. My Dad loves them, Im not a big fan, but whatever dad wants, dad gets. The world is that unfair. However the prospect mom baking is rather exciting, she's always either so lazy or complain of being too busy to bake. So maybe after baking those cookies she can advance to the strawberry mousse cheese cake i've been requesting for.

When i have the time, i'll perfect my choco cup cake. The sponge base is quite alright now, just need to experiement more with the choco frosting. Whne that's done i shall try the lemon cupcake. Lemo never goes wrong. I hope.

2006-12-24T20:45:00.000-08:00

In the life of a dimwit

A dimwit is a specific breed of people send down to earth to challenge the intellectual ability of humans. They are God’s test towards humanity. My brother Shawn is a dimwit. I deeply regret saying this but it is nothing but the absolute truth. Many a times, I am unable to comprehend the process he goes through to analyse a situation. Its not a complicated one, mind you, but a one of unexplainable simplicity. Gossips! He can not seem to be able to understand gossips. Something we do everyday! But the poor boy does try. He strains his ears terribly hard to hear what terrible secrets we are hiding form him or to be frank, of him. And never, I really mean never, does he seem to be able to decipher what we’re saying. I wonder! I believe he can not differientate a tail form its head.

In the life of an idiot

An idiot is a completely different breed of people in comparison with the dimwit. An idiot pretends to be dumb just to get on your nerve. Surprisingly, my brother is also an idiot. Another very obvious trademark of an idiot is he usually process certain trademark phrases, like for example “Shut up!”, “Ya ya, whatever!”. These phrases if you have not notice by now is frustratingly irritating. But if you get irritated, than im sorry to say, you have been fooled by an idiot.

In the life of a freak

A freak is a very complex breed of people. Perhaps the most complex one among the three. A freak has the amazing ability to get you so fume up that you run out of adapt curse words to correctly vent your hatred for the freak. So was born the term “freak”, it dosen’t mean anything in particular, just rolls very smoothly off your toungue when you’re struggling for a word to rant at the freak. The reason why the freak is so complex is till now, scientist round the world can not deduce what exactly the freak process that so effectively stirs up the anger of so many people. Again, very sadly announced, my sister is a freak.

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

2006-12-07T07:40:00.000-08:00

I'm a Douglas Adam fan, not a die-hard addict but a fan no doubt. Just read The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, it took me an entire year to find the book. Did'nt regret the wait on bit. The book was hilarious. To emphasize my point, here's one of the funniest extract.

"A large diary animal approached Zaphod with large watery eyes, small horns and what appears to almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips.

"Good evening" it lowed and sat back heaviliy on its hunches, "I am the main Dish of the Day. May i interest you in parts of my body?" It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters into a more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.

"Something off the shoulder perhaps? " suggested the animal "Braised in white wine sauce?"

"Er, your shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.

"But naturallymy shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly, "nobody else's is mine to offer."

Zaphod leapt to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal's shoulder appreciatively.

"Or the rump is very good", murmured the animal. "i've been excersing it and eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good meat there."

"You mean this animal actually wants us to eat it?" Trillian whispered to Ford.

"Thats absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting thing Ive ever heard"

"What's the problem Earthman?" said Zaphod.

" I just don't want to eat an animal that is standing there inviting me to," said Arthu. "Its heartless."

"Better than eating an animal that dosen't want to be eaten," said Zaphod.

" That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. "All right", he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't care, i'm not going to think about it now. I'll just err..."

"i think i'll just have a green salad," he muttered.

"Ma i urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be rich and tender by now. I've been force-feeding myself for months."

"A green salad?" said Arthur emphatically.

"A green salad?" said the animal, rolling its eyes disapprovingly at Arthur.

"Look,' said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don;t want to make a meal of this issues. For rare steakes and hurry"

The animal staggeredto its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle.

"A very wise choice, sir, if i may say so. Very good," it said. "I'll just nip off and shoot myself ."

He turned and gave a rienly nk to Arthur.

"Don;t worry, sir," he said, "I'll be bery humane."

It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.

I've ommitted a few words, but you get the gist!

2006-11-27T03:13:00.000-08:00

Just look at my little babies, all cooked, frosted and ready to be eaten!

Made cupcakes today and it was not on a moment of impulse mind you, i actually planned hard for this. Went onto the net to dig for recepies then on my mother's inisistence that it is insane for a recepie to require 4 cups of sugar, cross refered it with books i found at the book store. So you can just imagine me, hiding in the corner of the store copying laborously away.

But still damn it! They look hedious! Nothing like those angelic cupcakes i saw on the net with their pastel coloured frosting all piped up in a twirl. And the cooking process wasn't too much fun either. Lots of me being smack on the head by mom shouting " You ah! Got such a cook one! Mix halfway walk outside watch TV!".

Ok, ok so maybe its my irrespondsiblity and lack of prefessionalism that resulted in my cupcakes looking so lack lustre but fear not i will bounce back form my staggering defeat and achieve the art of cupcake making! i Will!

Taste update: 11/28/2006
Suprsingly they taste rather good after resting untouch for a night. The frost has settle comfortably into the sponge base so the taste of the cocoa spnge and sweet frosting combine nicely together.

2006-09-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

i just found out that one of my blog entired was quoted by another blog! I am quite thrilled by it really, my first tatse of fame. ok i won't exactly call it "fame" but you have to agree it rather glorifying. Anyway i had a sudden inspiration, i'm not going to be a qsychologist anymore! I'm gonna spend my life practising the art of weightlessness or "qing gong". i'm going to be a martial arts speialist. Cool eh! That would save me some walking time.

No Sign Board Seafood

2006-08-22T08:25:00.000-07:00

Before i went for dinner at NSB, i thought that i'll probably would not have any blog entry this week. NSB is like an empire, quite untouchable, so imagine my surprise when the food turned out to be unexpextedly bad. The fried rice was tasteless and so were the crabs. But, and we're nearing the interestin bit now, service was....i can't find a word for it...ok ok here it comes.......hilarious!!

We had the bad fortune of having a crab with "mouldy" meat (in my grandma's terms). So grandma, with all her "CiXi" demeanour waved for the manager to come over.

GM: "look at this. Its mouldy" (waves the crab accusingly at the manager)
M : " No it isn't, this is egg crab, it suppose to be like this." (picks up the crab)
GM: 'Its not only one, that one over there is black too" (points at my innocent father)
M : " No all egg crabs are like this" ( He picked up the crab poked his
finger into it and started eating it) "see no problem!" (stil savouring OUR crab)

GM looks on speechless

M : "Our crabs are always fresh or my boss's sign board will fall"

Err....does he have a signboard? Its "No signboard seafood"!?!
Well, i won't call that bad service but im sure there's a more tactful way of tackling this problem. Our crap turned out to cost $70, he stole one of our "gonk" away.

Hee It Seafood , Upper Thomson Road

2006-08-12T06:46:00.000-07:00

It was really out of desperation that we decided to eat at this relatively unknown "restaurant" and aslo because it was recomended by shawny, didnt want to hurt his feelings. Well one thing is for sure, it deserves to be relatively unknown!

We had their House TouFu, the very standard sweet and sour pork, Stir fry Garlic Vege and Frog Legs with Spring Onion.

All tasted tragic! The house toufu had this special reddish brown sauce surrounding it, i can't place my finger on what exactly it is made up of but judging from thge fishy after tasye, i would say fish! :) But if its any consolation, the otufu was indeed very smooth, as shawny has been raving on and on about.

The sweet and sour pork....boo to that! It lasted rather limb and the sauce lack that tangy something. And lastly, the frong legs. You know if its something i have learnt after having frong legs thrust down my throat young, is that they never taste good if the meat is not tight! The flacidity of it kinda reminds you of all those slimpy hopping creatures in that tank! YUCK!

"My Mom's Place"--JooChiat

2006-08-09T06:52:00.000-07:00

Went to one of the JooChait recommendations today: My Mum"s Place. No honestly its not MY mom's place, thats the shop's name. We ordered the recommended dishes. Creamy fried squid($12), Stuffed Tau pok balls ($8) , stir-fry diced chickens with salted fish ($12), Hokkien Mee (1$12). Luo Han Vegetables ($10), Beef HorFan ($5). Topped with some personal favourites, stir-fry galic kangkong ($6) and the minced-pork omelette ($7).

First impression wasn't great, the two other restaurants beside MMK were packed in comparision, that kinda shook me up bit taking
into thought that i was the one who recommended the shop (Not too nice if it turned out bad eh). But the interior was indeed homely, the menue had a hilarious caricarture of "My Mom" so its not rare to see some people holding up the menue trying to spot the owner among the all the other waitresse.

So now down to the tasting, most of the food lack what we cantonese call "wok aura", the shiok factor! The squid was a tad too sweet for my liking though the thai sauce was a refeshing change form the common black, also plus points goes to the squid who's flesh you can actually chew, compared to the more common "fried till its dehydrated" style.

However the famed stuffed tau pok was a let down. It had a netted skin which did no good for it, trapping all the juice that seeped out of its filling making it VERY SALTY.

The lack of "wok aura" was most obvious in the Beef Hor Fan, resulting in a rather weak black-pepper sauce.

To end it off we had their durian brulee, one duriam brulee if i must add, cause it was so costly, $3.50 for a teeny cup. It tasted like mousse, the durian used was of quite a good quality bringing a tingerling bitter after taste.
All in all, not too bad, we spend a total of $76.90, for a 6 person meal. I would go back again but definately not order the same dishes.

2006-07-13T02:45:00.000-07:00

well, studying is really very hard. You get this sudden gush of inspiration " Im going to work my guts off man! This is going to be it!" and then when its really time for you to sit down and drain yourself in the books, there's this mechanism in your body that actually shuts your eyes. Like clockwork! Amazing is it not!?! And then you say "ok maybe after a nap, a shot one, i'll get rejuvenated!" so on you go to the bed and once your body touch the mattress, suddenly you can't possibly close your eyes!

2006-06-28T07:08:00.000-07:00

i never thought my family would be one which i, a rather family orientated girl, would actually say "i don't think i ever want to come home ever again!!". But i did, at least thats what i feel.It seems that the pressure and stess in school is not hard enough and coming back home feels almost like a war zone. I hate it here. I hate it when the first thing i see is them watching TV, its plain lazy, it disgusts me as it probably does to my father. I hate to see the toilet scattered with used undergarments and having to scream for someone to pick it up.!

2006-06-12T21:25:00.000-07:00

i know im not an effective leader but i was under the assumption that i can at least pass a message efficiently. So here i just finished a conversation and it seem as though nothing is accomplished, as though i didn;y have a chance to speak or put my point across. Ok no problem, after gathering my thoughts i decided to call again, but this time its worse. It seems that i still can't put my point across either because there was an error in the initial info given or because i lack the communciations skill, worse still the person on the other line seem to be getting more agitated by the minute. I an swear that he must have said "to hell with her!" when i put down the phone. I dont't understand!

2006-05-18T07:24:00.000-07:00

The exams are over tomorrow but somehow i just don't feel excited! There's no "Yay it's finally over!" kinda feeling this time. I'm sorta developing a "forget about it" attitude here, you would too if the exams are crumbling over each other. Its torturous i tell you. You have this feeling that the marks are just within your grasp but somehow you just can't get it.

2006-04-14T09:27:00.000-07:00

Hey im really tired. For once ive got so much computer work to do. But maybe its better this way then i don't have to worry about whether or not im using my spare time properly because i don't have any. Ingenuis! Im quite bored actually, nothing exciting happening anymore. People are broing to read, nothing sent thrills up my sphine as it had before...am i getting old?

2006-04-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

Hey check it out! New blogskin! Classic! But hey, "who even goes to your blog"syas my bro, which i have to admit is very true. No one knows the add, i won't tell them! It constricts the wrtiting which totally spoils the fun. Though i offered a challenge to Geraldine, to see if she can find my blog in a weeks time. But then again, that is impossible, its like finding a needle in a haystack.
Anyway went for a haircut at Pearl Centre or isit People's centre, i dunno these name are really confusing, the haistylist call Ah John had really long nails. I thouught for quite some time and finally concluded that his longnails was so that when he runs his hands through my or people hair it act as teeths in a comb! Practical and convinient. Trust me to come up with somehting like that!

2006-03-21T02:28:00.000-08:00

Guys! What is with them! Twice already it is so infuriating, am i missing out on something cause i was under the asumption that if u do say "hi" on msn you actually intend to follow up on the conversation, not wait till the other person goes "hi" and then comepetely mute. Its plain rude! Do they not ever learn!

2006-02-23T04:12:00.000-08:00

“Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired”
–Robert Frost. Laugh out loud, God only knows how true this quote is. In a millennium where true love is believe to be sacrifice, there are a surprisingly large number of people who believe they’re in love, truly, but in fact re just indulging themselves in an experience. The thrill of being the object of someone’s affection, the shrill excitement of anticipating what would happen next. “Will he do it?”, “What is he going to say?”. All these and more are part of making up the entire “Love” experience.
Actually, Chocolate can do the same for you too . It contains the chemical “phytosteral” which scientist have reported responsible for making young love-lorns so dizzy with pleasure and of course, what they commonly say, on cloud nine.
However, this is no love. It’s common infatuation. Love on the other hand is a noble attribute that have survived centuries. Young teenagers should not be allowed to go around saying they’re in love. It’s an insult to those who have brave through so much to finally reach a degree where they able to sacrifice all they have in the name of love.
My advice to the young and hopefuls: Don’t go falling in love and attaching yourself now. Savour every moment of infatuation at its very best. Learn to love slowly. Its a lesson worth learning.

2006-02-10T07:36:00.000-08:00

I feel that teachers are really unobservant people. They love to look for extremes. Extremly smart people, extremly problemactic, they take an inetrest in. Its terribly unfair to those in the middle. They just assume that these people are coping really well, and when they do ask they're only doing it to appease their guilt. Do they really care? Of course not! Should they really have your(us middle people) concern's at heart, they would pay more attention to us and know and realise that no! I am not coping well! That no, there are so many priblrms i am encountering! and that no! Just because i don't go around publizing how much agony im in dosen;t means i doing well. I just hope you can see for yourself, i dont want to complain.

2006-01-27T04:36:00.000-08:00

Chinese New year dosen't hold the same excitment as it did before. How could it when you have 6 test to study for!

I once thought, in an attempt to console myself, that the O levels was really no big deal! I just need to be constantly prepare. Im really striving hard to matain that mindset but it seems to slipping away slowly. I cannot let this happen! I'll be driven to insanity should i ever have to experience stress.

well, if this seems like a very sudden shift of topic, its only because i choose not to think about it anymore. So here goes, ive just read Idiots blog and find that he is trying very hard to be philosophical. It'll be much more interesting reading accounts but hey! i never know i might just be doing the same thing1 :)

2006-01-17T02:46:00.000-08:00

I just simply love the state im in! If not for my unstable work performance, everything would have been perfect! Ihave to relish every one of these moments for as it always is...time flies

2005-11-25T03:05:00.000-08:00

Ive just sent an email and already im freaking afraid if i had made a mistake. Damn! Why must even sending an email be so hard! But at least it something to look forward to, that can;t be so bad right ?

2005-11-20T03:49:00.000-08:00

The human mind is one of my greatest fear in the world. For i simply cannot cope with the many thoughts that are constantly running through their otherwise rotten mind, you must try hard to understand why "rotten" in this context is a perfectly understandable adjective to decribe their mind, for, i know you'll definately agree, that it is only rotten minds that we try so hard to decipher. Who would bother with perfectly sound ones? i won't.

Anyway, it is torturous when you have to sit for hours (im exaggerating here) trying to figure out if the girl opposite you is presently observing your legs, or if the guy in front of you is whispering to his friend how absolutely un-benefiting you are of whatever post you are currently holding. You go home, terribly upset about how hard you're trying to back this world a better place but yet your efforts are usually not seen, heard or pass on through any form of communication in which it can be at the least known by others. Actually, you don't give a damn! You're perfectly fine with working behind the scenes, with no bigger authority praising you for whatever project you've helped to complete, with knowing that in actual fact your position belonged to somebody else with presumly better ability than you, with......you get my point. So im actually fine with all these facts but what Im not fine with, is people talking behind my back, of people quetsioning my ability, of people stepping over my head, of idiots looking down on me!

Its a horrible feeling I tell you, when you dread to go out with your friends just because you can't stand the th0ught of trying to decipher their emotions every living second of your life and when you have to constantly evaluate yourself so as not to give people the worng impression. I have known people who suffer from the same ill-fate as me and they have brilliantly conquer it by making a clown of themselves. I have been thinking about this strdegy for quite some time now and came to a wonderful conclusion that if you make yourself a clown people won't take you seriously ebough to bother gossiping about you. But on the other hand, i find that utterly impossible for me to ever be a clown. I was'nt born one and find it rather stupit to risk dignity to avoid a thing as unavoidable as gossips.

2005-10-31T18:14:00.000-08:00

Its 10 in the morning and its weird that my msn list shoukd have less than 1 little green man. Normally by 8, on a holiday, it should already be filled up with at least 5. Hmm.....maybe its because today is Deepavali, that can accoubt for the lack of little green man.

Now thinking a little bit more in detail, those little green man are kinda cute when they flash onto the screen. I wonder why that never cross my mind before. :)

2005-10-28T05:30:00.000-07:00

Everytime the little box flashes on the screen my heart misses a beat. Lol i know its terribly foolish to still hold on to such little hope, but its this tiny speck in my life that adds the extra zest that so many people lack. Its uncanny how i read a book and spot so many resemblance to my life within it and even more impossible that it should come so timely. I suddenly felt this strong gush of hope and expectation rush through my heart only to find out, once again the hard way how this emotions are usually illusions.

2005-10-25T07:03:00.000-07:00

This is just great! its 10pm in the night, and im on msn with my friend discussing the art club's outing. I really ought to be asleep as my eyes can barely open. the day is getting better and better, it seems that my night wont end here. The pile is endless.

2005-10-24T03:35:00.000-07:00

" what is the point?' i sometimes ask myself.
Its pretty obvious what the busy sign is for, and yet i still wait hopefully in fornt of the screen. Every time the msg box flash across with its unmistickable hollow beep sound, my heart misses a beat. How dreadful though my hopes are alwayd endless streams of water that never seem to stop. It horrid, i should be made to suffer such torment!

i do seem to be exaggerating, don't i. For if you really know the whole story, i swear you would "kill" me, for being so dramatic. But haiz, i do feel rather at the moment.

2005-10-20T05:39:00.000-07:00

do you know the feeling when a song actually reminds you of someone and you feel rather pain? Well i think im sort of infected with that hedious hedious hedious feeling. Haiz, whoever is reading this must really think i have a major depression. No actually, its not depression but hopelessness. o common who'll write in their blog if they dont have sorrow to pour out?? so just bear with me.

If the computer can radiate human emotions, you'll probably hear me choking now, with tears. It unexpressable, and stupid of me, i sit everynight and pray that things will go right for me cause i can't take set backs. At least not one afetr another but i guess it'll toughen me up a bit. But pray please free me of this agony, i just need to know.

Plainly speaking, im very sad. And thats a very dangerous emotion, for me at least. Cause it'll evolve into reacklessness, and that is very dangerous.

2005-10-19T01:54:00.000-07:00

im feeling rather devestated. Its weird things always turn out this way, so unexpected yet at the same time oyu alredy knew at the back of your mind something of this nature is bound to happen. Not this time though, i studied my guts out for this subject and yet all that hard work brought me is a mere 65 marks. If i were to ask myself if i had done my best and put in effort in this exam, the answer would be a yes i really did study so you can uimagine how hard this is for me. Knowing that i actually studied yet reap nothinig in return. Boy oh boy, this whole week and the next and the following ones is going to be hell for me. So horrible it is to it and lsiten to the teacher go through questions i know i ought to have gotten right Drats! i don't know what to do. How to acess myself, how to plan the next step. The problem is there don't seem to be a next step.

2005-10-15T04:35:00.000-07:00

its almost the holidays now and i beginning to feel rather bored. Excitement is just a stone throw away but i can't seem to reach out and grab it.

2005-10-14T05:50:00.000-07:00

its so maddening, i thought only children will run away from home but it seems that adults too are acustomed to such behavoir. Its frustrating just when i was thinking about having a long deserved break these stupit inter-personal problems arises!

2005-09-30T20:33:00.001-07:00

I've been keeping a journal lately, its a reall pretty with orange, red and yelow with huge flower motifs embellished with embroidery. But the problem is, i can't seem to find the inspiration write in it. Not that i have nothing to write but its so much more tedious to wite then to type, so here i am back again.

Anyway the exams are up ahead, iand i've found that its so much more nerve racking preparing for it then to actually sit for it. You look around you and all the other people faces are just buried under the books, and you start to wonder, should my face be buried too ??
However an excellent consolation for all the hard hard work i have put in is a holiday to Australia. I know! Its so much. I never expected dad to actually consider my suggestion
, now im simply thrilled!

2005-09-10T02:28:00.000-07:00

I find it very comical that the trend of disposing bodies in singapore just remind us yet again that we're in a very very space constraint country. We must have the higest rate of violently dismembered body! Lol, after wathing up till now, 3 seasons of CSI it really tickles me that we couldn;t find a more illusive way to dispose of our murder victims. But still it came yo me as rather a shock when i heard of their findings of the 7pm news yesterday. hmm...very soon perhaps we'll have a whole series of dismembered cases.

2005-09-07T04:59:00.000-07:00

This all week hav been phrases after phrases of intensive studies. Hope that at least that this will get me mentally prepare for the gruelling month ahead. hmm...are my sentences really that complex, it kinda angers me to actually find out, hey! people don't understand what you're writing. But still im proud of my writing hmmh!

Anyway enough of such heart wrenching issues, there still a whole month to look forward to. It my birthday again. You know what, its not the day itself that is so exciting but actually the expectation itself. Living through a day and expecting that something um, nice? might actually happen send cords of thrill down my spine :) Too das!

2005-09-02T06:25:00.000-07:00

Lol i strongly recommend maksim's music to everybody who bethers to listen. Its a form of revolutionised classical music. simply uplifting.

anyway my results sucks. Never thought that it come to a day that i actually say thay ,but ya it sucks! which is bad because the next month is suppose to be really exciting with my birthday and my friend actually here, but i have to start phrase one of intensive studies.

step 1: to improve english, cut down on complex sentence. no commas, no whatever, only full tops.

step 2: memorise chem.

step 3: help me im fainting already!!

2005-08-28T05:04:00.000-07:00

i think its over, ya so soon the dread is sweeping over me again i have got to pray it can't be that fast there's still a whole month left. This feeling and emotion is keeping me alive, i didn't know how true that lyrics was until well, now?

2005-08-26T03:29:00.000-07:00

o this is the start of something good,
don't you agree
i haven't felt like this for so many moons
you know what i mean,
and we can heal to this destruction
as we are standng on our feet
o since you want to be with me you have to follow through
with every word you say
and i, all i really want is you
you to stick around
i'll see you everyday

~follow through, Gavin Degraw~

I feel so stupit, so silly, lol i'll never believe i'll go to such extend, this is sure something to laugh at when i grow old and haggard. Anyway today is the last of test land, the chinese was a killer though but to celebrate i went downstairs! Ya not much, it was to see Shawny but he had the nerve to shoo me. so went to the fish pond and daze didn't dare to go ay further or i would die of embarrassment!

2005-08-20T04:47:00.000-07:00

lol i never thought i would capable of such emotions, but now its hurts badly almost like drinking preserved sour juice. My lungs feel as though they are being crush beneath my ribs, its almost suffocating.
for once im rather speechless..... everything i do seem to be pointless and i'm so unsure of the next step its like im waiting just sitting there waiting for hope...

2005-08-17T08:11:00.000-07:00

im sweating my pants out in here! Its so hot, and to think its actually at night now. Im not sure if i had done what i was suppose to do i seem to be chatting on the net for the whole of this evening. But mind you im not enjoying this chat, we've been going on for almost 2 hours now, me and Nic, on the placing of commitee members. Too tired now, must be sufferig form temporary brain suspension, if it really exist.

2005-08-16T03:54:00.000-07:00

Aaron is back! lol that should have been mentioned 3 weeks ago, for yes! he has been on local soil for 3 weeks now. Just heard from Ys that he invited us, ok not exactly invited but um...organise would be a better word. so aaron organised a movie trip this thursday and i have maths and physics tution on the same day plus biology excursion. Terribly typical of him!

2005-07-29T07:39:00.000-07:00

i was walking home on tuesday when i saw an old women wearinga pink satin blouse and green skirt, she walked pass me as though she were drunk but i know she wasn't. I was looking at her when she walked pass me and from her eyes i could tell that she was fully aware of what was going on around her. It was really sad though because i know deep down that she was trying to be what she wasn't, young. She was gripping on painfully to something that had long ago flown away. I can't place words on this. What i felt was too painful. I hate seeing people try to be what they are not and not be aware of what people think of what they are doing...it make me feel...feel pained.

2005-07-25T05:12:00.000-07:00

This sucks, been waiting all weekend to actually update an entry and when i really do come to it, guess what? i've to rush through it because there's simply too much hm wk piling up.
God! You know you have put too much on your mind when nap time isn't so satiffying anymore.
You know i have this tiny wish that one day i'll have this mini gadget which will open itself into a full size lap top whenever im dyign to type my thoghts now. It really works you know, typing your thoughts down i mean. Its so..so satifying and the sound of the taps they too are rather comforting to hear. LOL i should just hear myself, looks like im turning into a silent pycopath, is there such a thing by the way? I mean there are very few pycopath who are actually...silent.

Ps:(BTW The Island rocks big time!)

its over

2005-07-22T03:53:00.000-07:00

yup its finally over after weeks of hard work we finally pulled off the racial harmony carnival. Alhtough i wouldn't call it a huge sucess it was rather um...fullfilling!
Besides it was rather fun too, sort of hilariously ridiculous to go around shouting"Agar Agar for sale" and then when i find my voice weaving just look back and give one of those stares to YS and he go shouting in that bombarding voice of his " Agar Agar for sale. All for $0.50". Lol come to think of it i was really lucky that YS was in one of his obliging mood.

anyway just 8 more days to go before the end of the month. Fortunately i have loads of things to look forward to or not going to school would just lose its meaning.

1) Korea trip (ok, um.im not particularly excited over this one but still its the first time i step over singapore's shore alone...i mean really)

2) Its going to be the end of the month soon. Horray!!

3) English debates.(I so love debates)

so that you have it top three exciting happenings on the Always Kddingly Rachel's list!!

The Patai war

2005-07-11T07:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my unweaving devotion for the adorable Patai has been shaken. I had seen it in its most revolting state....cooked raw and lossely mixed with...chilli. I was devestated by what they had done to my patai, it looked like a few green pebbles mixed in a sea of red something. I didn't realise how undevoted i was when i refuse to touch it until my Dad, the NUMBER ONE patai devotee, pointed it out. No matter how hard i try to push the fact away from my face it came back hard to me: I simply cannot endure it in its rawest state! I have greatly disappointed my one true friend... :(

Once again it seems that one cannot change fate, my friendship with the ridicuously hilariously and sometimes painfully childish LYS had prove to be one with a great amount of petty misunderstandS. Today he sound so sore after losing me, actually my bro, to a game of checkers. He said i cheated! What nerves! He said that 2 against one was not fair, i retorted that i was only giving verbal encouragement to me bro and he ended it with a wonderful wise statement that goes : Now i Know who to give my respect to.
I mean how wise is that! I swear, and i shall officially put it down onto my DONT list, his great name and beside it there is the essential statement: TO AVOID AT ALL COST!!!!

2005-07-01T05:19:00.000-07:00

well, i tried my best, really i gave out all the persuading lines i have used in my entire life (although um...i hav'nt done much persuading in my life but still....). It just didn't get throught. But hey rach! look on the bright side, now you know that its final you won't have to try that hard anymore. Oh well, some things will never be the same again just got to look forward. Arggghh! But im my life organ is riping itself into pieces, it felt like a huge stab! I promised myself i'll never act like those girls when i happen to be in a scenerio like that but somehow it seems like thats not going to happen. I find myself being so questionably short tempered (girly style) and toungue tied, i can't seem to say anything that don't sound either repeated or stupit. Darn me!

2005-06-25T07:56:00.000-07:00

I surprised myself today, i didnt do a single assignment and amazingly it didnt get back on me. Must be all that excitement, its going to be july soon! And theres just so much to look forward to but t feels rather dangerous getting your hopes up to hign that when you fall it hurts so much more!

2005-06-13T07:28:00.000-07:00

im exhausted...mentally.
I wonder is it to much to just wish that somehow what i do actually tallies with my personality.
Is it selfish to wish that i wont have to push out of my cmomfort zone too much and feel like a complete idiot after?
I guess im afterall being very micro-view.
Very bummed today. Had to go for this convention where they put you in that kind of scenerio i hate to be in. Cheering in front of a crowd may seemeasy to you but definately not me....i suck to the core.Not leader material at all!
I really hope that one day i can sit in the corner and dream, all the time not having to worry if someone watching me may find me lonely and try to give me sympathy.
I guess i'm just a girl whose place in the wrong position but God this is a horrible way to find out what i'm made of.