Log in

stick the pin in your hair [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

[Links:| valerie ibificus ]

romanticising cross cultural dialogue [Mar. 14th, 2007|05:52 pm]
[it feels like |touchedmoved]

I'm proof-reading our 10th anniversary publication, a collection of personal narratives written by participants of our programmes and events over the last ten years describing their experience with the organisation.

One of them said this:

It is in fact through programmes that facilitate the constant exchange of perspectives that [insert organisation] achieves its greatest impact -- a form of education that is more effective than aid, more empowering than institutions, and more lasting than legislation. This, I believe, is what ultimately improves relations between nations and societies; it is what Herman Hesse, in Journey to the East, has described as 'a readiness to believe in things beyond reality even though only a few barriers are overcome and only a few advances made.

I'm bloody moved. And this is only one of those that put a lemon in my nose.
link1 comment|post comment

Passing [Mar. 7th, 2007|01:16 pm]
[it feels like |coldhayfever]
[listening to |classical at work]

I'm not sure if I've really gotten over the disorientation that started the week of Chinese New Year, when I took the whole week off and, on top of boring myself to death, started growing a kind of psychological seizure to do with having too much time and no pressing tasks to complete at work. I missed my friends in office and the area where we hang out for [smoke] breaks.

Or this holiday disorientation has just moved on to another kind of disorientation resulting from the many things that are happening to/around me right now. First of all, the shattering news is that we may not have the house starting April. The landlord is raising the rent beyond our means at the end of our lease and we probably have to move out. I am ruined.

Have I said it already? I love this house. Living here has radically changed my life in all the ways that I've always wished for.

Moving on, there is this someone, and it's freaking me out, naturally, what's new. I am such a panic attack. I haven't seen my cats and family for weeks now. The car my father just bought has arrived and I've only seen Google pictures of it. My mom called me at midnight yesterday and the first thing she said was, "What have you been so busy with?"

Dramatic changes at work as well. Departures, potential transfers resulting in openings... I'm waiting and seeing.

On to better things: It's the Album Leaf next week!!!
linkpost comment

(no subject) [Feb. 24th, 2007|08:00 am]
[listening to |Feist - Lover's Spit]

It's 8.02am on Saturday morning and I can't sleep on a roiling gassy stomach because of an overpriced (and surely half rotten) mala hotpot dinner. It's a bad idea to go out for hotpot -- you don't know how long the food has been sitting in a badly serviced freezer, unrefridgerated on a counter top, handled and dropped by unwashed kitchen hands and rolling around on the kitchen floor before it's picked up and put on a half-clean serving plate to get to you. Or who has been pissing into that soup out of spite at yesterday's evil customer.

So here I am, watching a music download one kilobyte per second. I've been trying to download this one song for ages and finally I'm getting close, less than one megabyte to go yesssssssssssssssss!!
link2 comments|post comment

The Ills of the V [Feb. 15th, 2007|02:11 pm]
[it feels like |coldcold]

So even LJ is exhibiting this unwarranted  v-day shittiness with the pink-hearts wallpaper and arrow-through-the-red-heart logo.


*dripping sarcasm*

All I wanted last night was the gas man. He didn't come either.

After two weeks of cold sandwiches for dinner, I'd decided I was going to use up all the spare vegetables in the fridge and make some risotto (again), and eat it on a dvd. So I finish up chopping all the greens with the damnned blunt knife on the rotting chopboard and finally get to start cooking when poof, the fire goes out. Yes, I'd run out of gas. At 8:30pm. I go crazy calling up all the numbers I can find on yellowpages.com, search "24-hour gas delivery" on google only to find nothing, and finally sit down with a cigarette feeling totally defeated. What, I'm in 24-hour operative, labour-exploitative Singapore and there's no gas delivery to be found at 8:30pm on a bloody weekday is this a joke? It's funny, really, but I felt like I was going to cry. I was so tired.

I send a message to somebody highlighting the above salient points with a comical twist to it. I sit down and call my mother while waiting for the reply that never came.

I ate two grapes and went to sleep at 10pm.

I got the reply this afternoon. That's ok. I delete the number on a PMS-decision, which is not really wise but that's ok too.

I will make the risotto tonight. And if everything still goes wrong --- the new gas tank explodes, I set fire to the kitchen, the entire row of houses burn down and my neighbours' children are marred for the rest of their lives --- at least there'll be no "Valentine's Day, you LOSER!" ringing softly but nigglingly at the back of my head. So it'll be ok.

O. K.
linkpost comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]