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On the day of Friday, 21 October 2005,09:41:00

I feel so uninspired… yet I’m blogging!
What to say… what to say…?

There were so many little pockets of experiences I noted to blog about but now I can’t seem to think of any.

How?

Ok, maybe I talk about the Chorus thing I went to today. It’s this informal Chorus (choir) thingy that’s part of a society by the Music Centre. There were quite a lot of old people involved; I guess anybody can join even if they are not student or staff at Warwick. I had a fun time! The conductor is this super funny guy and I kept wanting to burst out laughing every time he did his weird facial expressions or hand gestures while we were singing. JY will be able to do a good impersonation I’m sure!
Seems like the Chorus will be having a performance sometime in November, maybe I can participate in that. Seems fun! Singing is always fun. I had my first singing lesson last week with this guy (my teacher) called Richard Whitehouse and he’s very Qiang2, very classical and loud when he sings… super loud. Like Lao Shi! Haha… in that first lesson, he said no matter what you’re singing, pop or jazz or musical, whatever, you basically use the same technique. Which I beg to differ but anyways, there’s definitely stuff to learn from him. The way they teach here is quite abstract. There’s less of a technical or practical approach but more of a mental, sensational kind of understanding. I have to get used to that. Anyway, that teacher of mine, he apparently bruised(?)/twisted(?) part of his neck(?)/shoulder(?) during karate and so my lesson this week has been postponed. That was quite comical, I thought. Him and karate. Him and bruised/twisted neck/shoulder.

I’m totally thrilled that I don’t have to do any work on a Thursday night so I’m free to write rubbish and if you’re looking to see if hmmmm… Su’s writing got improve or not… I’m so not applying anything I’ve learnt here! Although HW and XY and Wei did say I sounded different in my previous few entries. I think it’s more a matter of where I am and how I feel than what I’ve learnt. Now I feel like I have to blog but I dunno what to blog.

Oh, a little about the food here then… hiyaaaahh… there’s no cheap and good (healthy) food unless it’s cooked by yours truly (harhar). So that’s quite a pain because eating out usually means sandwiches or (save me!) fish and chips. Sianz… always deep fried! I want healthy Qing Dan, soupy food. I want Yong Tau Fu or Yu Pian Mi Fen! But cannot so too bad.
Went to Coventry last Saturday and had Duck Noodles (dry) at this Chinese restaurant. It costs £5.50 but two gals can share a bowl if their appetite is not that big. It was quite yummy but loaded with oil, nonetheless. Next time I go I’ll have the soup one and oh, the luxury of being served!!! Eat, pay, get up and leave. ‘Thank you very much! See you again!’ The pleasure is mine, really.

Just thought of something, a friend here said that I am VERY VAIN. Gosh… I am so un-vain and he said that I am vain… half in jest, but he meant it definitely. I am not offended, no. I just think it… weird. Over here, I have (suddenly) become vain (when I dun even MA-KE!!!). I don’t think I had anyone really said that to me before. I mean, I am not un-vain or blasé about appearances but vain??? Then again, it may be a matter of relativity so… ok lor, vain lor. The Onz Form Project is still on anyway and being part of the OFP, we can’t be afraid to be called vain, can we? Said friend also has my blog address so I can’t say anything bad about him other than that he is déjà vu number two because his disposition reminds me of the very delectable Hiroshi (he is not going to be reading this so I can say he is delectable! ‘Very’ somemore… he’ll be so happy if he knows…), which is not that bad a thing to say, is it? (That sentence is too long and needs a second reading to digest.)
I hope you guys are not gonna pop! and go, 'Su, you are vain what!' 'Su, VAIN!' Pop, pop, pop. Ignore me while I drown in this sea of mushrooms... but we go down together ah...

I’m being random again cos I can’t think of anything better to say… The skin on my arm is getting very dry and on the back of my hand it’s looking diseased again. What a bore! It’s either because of the washing liquid I used tonight at a friend’s place which stung my hands a bit and made them feel itchy for a while or because of the new moisturiser from Marks & Spencer which I like but am so likely to be allergic to.

I’m gonna end off abruptly here cos I’m getting kinda sleepy. Shall post some pics another time then.

Jay ne! (can’t stand myself!)

su |

On the day of Friday, 7 October 2005,06:25:00

I’ve not had the time to listen to some songs properly - properly like how I am reading the stories given to me as homework; every sentence, over and over several times, analysing every detail - the way I like to do it. The enjoyment that comes out of mentally de-boning a song or even better, reconstructing the singing, making it mine in that sense, that is satisfaction.
I had been distracted. It took me several days of re-running NQMM’s new album, Set 02, before I finally got a chance to be touched by the songs, today. Thank God because for a while I thought that I had lost it! Or that they had lost it after the change in members. Well, they lost a bit of it, I guess, but not all of it.

Backtracking to last Saturday, an open café right at the lobby of a theatre – not all that classy, I saw some musicians playing jazz. A grand piano, a guitar, someone was on double bass and another on drums. I wanted to call them a jazz band but then again, not really. Those were the few staple players (I suppose) but were joined by another one or two others who could be out-rightly amateurish bathroom singers/players or perhaps professional in skill but not in title. It was a platform for these non-pros to have a go and demonstrate their secretly (or not) honed skills. There wasn’t even a stage! Just a space, a semi-circle formed in front of the glass panes that were the walls of the café so that we could look right into the streets on the outside and that formed the backdrop for their ‘stage’. Little round tables dotted the carpet on the inside where the patrons of the café would sit. It was full house on that day, last Saturday, and the crowd – mostly of our parent’s age but there were exceptions, they gave the musicians their full attention. They were not making small talk, or writing or reading. They were plain listening. And I liked that.

I stood there for about 5 minutes before two old, old men, black, together with a younger man that looks Jamaican (although I’m not all that sure what Jamaican looks like but he really gave me that Jamaican feeling… harhar!) had their turn to perform.
They were obviously good and contrasted greatly with the saxophone player who played before them. The sax player was performing for his first time and I caught him grinning as he scooted off to one side of the café, a corner still against the glass windows, rejoining the other musicians who were waiting, nervously I suppose, because it would be their turn soon.
I don’t know too much about jazz other than to enjoy it but I could tell from the sound of one old black man’s saxophone and the other’s voice that they were old souls. Not just simply old, but old souls! I cannot describe it but perhaps you might have heard this sort of sound before. From the sound, you can tell that at some point in their lives, they were in turmoil, they had suffered. Whether or not they are suffering now or if the wounds have healed, that’s not important because they had grasped the meaning of it and they knows what it is and they use it cleverly in their songs. The songs maybe sad but listening was a joy!
I do not think they felt particularly touched or emotional while they were performing. I think they are more professional than that. I was probably more emotional as an audience. At one point the singer was gesturing animatedly at the band to go one key higher and looked really agitated when they didn’t. The voice that came out right after was still smooth as silk and sad as anyone can imagine. He was singing wearing a pink and grey chequered pullover and a white shirt within it. That the pullover was pink made me amused because the colour just simply didn’t fit with the kind of voice and music he was doing. It was probably nothing, maybe he just liked pink! But at that point I thought it just showed me his commitment and resilience. I am ridiculous, I know but I felt this is one dependable singer who would go on be it a pink shirt he had on, no shirt perhaps or if the lightning threatened to strike him dead.
I’m just really Tou2 Ru4 (I love this word) in my appreciation.

On the topic of me being ridiculous, last night while walking home, I saw a flock of birds (to put it generally but they maybe Herons because I stay at Heronbank which is named after those birds) fly south (but it could be any other direction) and I was touched! I don’t even remember why! The birds were in the shape of an arrow and some were lurking behind, probably some sort of defence formation for them, and they were flying rather low so I could really see them and they were grey and had long necks. And I just thought of SHE’s song, you know, that song… … and I was bloody touched!
Looking as unglamorous as ever, hugging a free duvet I got earlier in the evening, side by side, my friend and I stood for a while, our vision in their wake.

I promised to talk about my class. It is not the most interesting thing to talk about at this point but if you must know, basically we have only 6 people in our course. They all seem very smart and articulate to me and they all have had more professional experiences or have had done similar courses before. Since there are only 6 of us, I can briefly tell you about each of them.
1) John is a father of three. He looks like a stern man but I guess he is not really. He worked at a business magazine as a journalist a few years ago and seems to know a lot about journalism. He is quite a practised writer and had submitted some of his works for competitions and awards etc.
2) Angie is, as she described herself, a middle-class, middle-aged, British housewife. She also has kids. She also, right before joining us, took up a writing seminar in Cambridge but was focusing more on poetry than fiction.
3) Kirsten together with Jane has eccentric dressing. Kirsten has red hair and she likes to wear cutie stuff. It is somewhat Goth in a sense but not in the black lipstick and nails sense, more like a toned down cosplay (think pastel pinks and reds). I think Kirsten is really, really good at writing. She’s the jewel among us. Can tell. She also took a writing course at Oxford before this.
4) Jane always has eyeshadow on and more often than not, it stands out as a huge contrast on her face. She just completed her undergraduate degree in Lit at Warwick so she’s very familiar with the department and all.
5) Sarah looks a few years older than me although I can’t be sure. She seems to have very nice skin and she seems more… … ‘normal’ as in someone whom I feel is closer to me in this stage of my life. Maybe I shouldn’t use the word ‘normal’.
6) Then there is me.
Because they are all locals, they get along a lot better with each other, small talk and all. But they are well, polite to me at worst, nice to me at best so I don’t feel all that left out.
The lecturers are pretty interesting and the lessons too. I will have a lot of writing to do… I don’t even know why I’m blogging when I should jolly well be writing my homework!

I think I’ve spent more time than I’ve allocated here so I’ll write more next time! Friday tomorrow!
Ming and JY, good luck for auditions!

Halfway through dinner 2 hours ago.

The ulu driving range where I'm attempting to learn some golf.

su |

On the day of Monday, 3 October 2005,09:44:00

Heya! One half of the Blogger is back for now…

Whew… it has been 13 days since I landed on this foreign yet familiar piece of land that I have only read about yet never set foot upon. This university, whose website I have been frequenting so often over the past half year or maybe more. I’m thinking of the things I have read about, the preparation, the anticipation and the fear that I had. It is an inability, the impossible mission for me to reconcile my real and surreal world, my fact and my fiction, so now I have no idea what my previous expectations were and if they had been met or disappointed. All for the better perhaps, to give myself a clean slate to begin with. I have another 10 months, or maybe more, to explore the place and to explore within myself as I some what try to settle down or build up, if you like, a home here. As without any immediate burden or support, I try to live for this second and not the last nor the next.

This is project SUPER HAPPY GIRL in the making.

The first day I set foot on campus, I was depressed. As always, sad to leave my family and sad to be away from my friends, the people I care about. It is quite illogical, that I should make myself feel this terrible when I can jolly well just stay home and be simple and contented but no, neither is in my control. Firstly, I had to leave; secondly, I had to feel terrible. I knew there was no remedy other than time. But that’s ok, because in my mind I knew I could always count on time and I knew that nothing and nobody is indispensable. I knew as they had sung in some Jap song, that ‘everything’s gonna be all right’. (Which song is it?)
So as I sat on the steps of the sunken forum they have outside the Student’s union on the very first day, thinking how tragically long this year is gonna be, I already secretly knew that a year is but too short. I knew many things it seems!

The first person I got to know is a girl called Carol whom I met at the pre-departure meeting. Déjà vu number one comes in here because the way she talks reminds me so much of Wei. Her expressions and even the way she speaks Mandarin! But she is a lot more of a go-getter and she is also tanned and diminutive in size. I bumped into her at Heathrow Airport while we were clearing customs and I’m somewhat glad I found someone to hang with so early on in the Orientation.

The Singaporeans tend to hang together as do most people from other countries. I did make several friends from China and such and my flatmates come from all over but ultimately, the Singaporeans are more supportive of each other and we eat together and shop together. It is not the ultimate fun one can get but it is not a bad experience. Most of them are younger than me but very, very smart and although I lapse into my occasional daydream when they talk, I don’t actually mind just listening to them getting heated over social issues, politics, economics, math or even literature that I don’t know or have no opinion on.

The campus is a self-contained one. It has a post office, supermarket, medical centre and a beautiful arts centre; basically everything that you ever need to get your life running. It is a great place really, beautiful with greenery. There are big open fields where squirrels sprint and right outside my place is a lake. Tons of ducks and some swans gather here everyday. They shit all over the long and winding pebbled footpath that I have to tread everyday but I cleverly avoid the green shit with my keen eyes. I like the campus although it is rather new (we’re only 40 years old) unlike Oxford where the very air you breathe feels laden with history. But the side-effects of being self-contained in this small campus town came to me a few days ago. I actually felt slightly claustrophobic and ironically, wished for big bustling city milling with people, faceless and mysterious. People who walk so fast they overtake me (ok, everybody overtakes me), people jostling, grabbing a quick coffee before getting to work. That toil in a city, so bored and routine yet so energetic and vibrant, like everyone is tuned in to the same drum roll for war. I miss being anonymous in a city. It’s different from being anonymous on campus. I will look forward to London.

Two nights ago I watched a play at the Arts Centre called Bronte. It is about the 3 Bronte sisters who wrote passionate novels despite being chaste and isolated. The play was mostly serious and intense. Although I was in the mood for some romantic comedy sort (that’s my cuppa tea!), I have to admit from my amateurish point of view, that the play was well acted and well scripted and I was enraptured as it unfolded.
There are ample opportunities here to watch plays, musicals and concerts of all sorts, provided you have the money, of course. I have decided to save up (although I dunno how I’m going to do that when I’m not even earning) for the shows! Yesterday morning, I found out that a friend is also interested in watching Jason Mraz who will be playing at London, Manchester, Nottingham, Wolverhampton and several other accessible places, supporting James Blunt's concert. We spent the whole day surfing for his concert tickets but they are all sold out! I can’t believe the bad luck! The show is on February 2006, they started selling the tickets in August and they are all sold out already! I am so disappointed! My only wish is that they add an extra day or that someone sells the right tickets on ebay! What I would give to watch MRAZ play live! That would definitely make a good memory for one and all! I’m gonna keep watch for any chance to grab a ticket!

I was in Birmingham on Saturday and as a Singaporean friend puts it, Birmingham is to UK as Jurong is to Singapore. It was really nothing to shout about as compared to Warwick and Oxford, both of which is really quaint and pretty. Birmingham is not the kind of city I miss or that I am familiar with. It was rather dreary and boring but there is a relatively large (as compared to the one in Coventry – the nearest town to Warwick Uni) Chinese supermarket there so everybody was stocking up on food stuff. Some people went crazy over the tofu which was funny! I bought 2 packets of red bean cos I had a sudden craving for my mom’s red bean soup! On our way back to the station, someone kicked a bag of groceries left lying by the street and happily usurped the loot. I dunno if it’s right to do that. It’s definitely not moral but then if left there to waste, we may in fact be making better use of the stuff by cooking them. Part of me kept thinking if there was gonna be some drugs or voodoo in the bag but in the end I shoved the paranoia aside and landed myself with a pack of sago and rock sugar! Both of which I had decided not to buy so as to save money!

Gosh… I think this is stretching too long and I’m not even making it that interesting! I shall rattle on another time about my classes, déjà vu number two and the horrible food... amongst other long-winded tales.

And now some pictures to make everybody happy!

This is yesterday's brunch.

This is Heronbank, the place I live.

This is me and Carol in front of the Birmingham City Council. If you think I lost weight, you are very nice! I think I did too! Tell you about the food another time!

A rather beautiful church in Birmingham... it just reminded me of Jane's wedding! Every church now reminds me of Jane's wedding!

su |