the blackboard grading system.

Out of 4 assignments, I got C for 3 of them.

For the last one, I got D..

...This is so not funny lor.

Btw, I had a very good nap during lecture just now.

When I told this to my sister over msn, she said:
dun worry, you are a singaporean. your standard is supposed to suck

=_=||

The funniest shit is that the average score for my course is around that standard.

the difference between smart and stupid people

I spent weeks ahead of the deadline in the library researching, hours poring over heaps of books, days spent carrying out extensive online research, countless late nights typing out the essay.

My friend spent her week before the deadline partying, getting drunk pissed, wasted, smoking weed, and 24 hours before the essay due, fooling around. One hour before the deadline, working her ass off to piece together a decent piece of essay, and asking me to come up with some ideas.

In the end, we both got 20 marks for our essay.

Being born stupid means I have to do 10 times the work of everyone else just to reach their standard. Being born stupid means I have to spent 10 times the amount of time and effort above everyone else just to attain the same level of understanding as them. Being born stupid means that I have to work harder than everyone else.

And, sometimes, I wonder why I bother putting in so much effort at all.

playing truant.

I have been skipping classes quite frequently because I have trouble waking up in the morning because I have trouble sleeping at night.

...This is not right. Nerds are supposed to attend EVERY SINGLE class.

emptiness

It's one thing to be sad and lonely.

But, it's another thing to be sad and lonely and decide to have unprotected sex, and during a visit to the doctor, get informed that there is a chance you might have contracted an STD.

Also, also, while you bitch about the Mainland Chinese who "do nothing but study everyday, and have zero social life," keep in mind that there are others out there who might be categorizing you as the girl who "do nothing but party everyday, and spend zero time on her studies".

These sad, sad lonely creatures. I really pity all of them. Trying so hard to fill up their life with booze, party and drugs. All they get at the end of the day is a sense of emptiness. And, perhaps, an STD.

Also, please open your eyes BIG BIG. Not everyone out there is a couple, there are many swinging singles. Not every couple is together because they genuinely want to, but not every couple is together just because they need someone to be with.

If you keep thinking he isn't worth it, then he probably isn't.

the great censorship in China

Just as I was getting fed up with the albatross of the classroom and being spoon-fed information, we were assigned to do our very first real hard news story.

We were given a lot of freedom as to how we wanted to go about doing it.

Since I've become much more politically-aware and immensely interested in the Tibetan's protestations taking place in China, I decided to cover the China's human rights violations campaign held at Federation Square.

Companies such as Google and Yahoo! actually help the Chinese government to censor out sensitive material, restricting access to web content for China citizens. Ironically, these are the companies that publicly state that they support human rights and freedom of expression.

Shi Tao, a journalist in China, sent an email to a friend in the US. When the friend published the material in the US, the Chinese government approached Yahoo! to get personal details of the source of the email. Without any questions asked, Yahoo! handed over personal details of Shi Tao to the government, including his name and address, which allowed the Chinese authorities to track him down and sentence him to 10 years in prison.

I love talking to random strangers and have so much fun interviewing them. But, it can get pretty hard garnering interesting answers, and most Asians are rather reluctant to speak up.

Since I have to be unbiased as a journalist in my report, I had to hang around waiting for Chinese faces to appear on a rather slow Friday afternoon. The first few Chinese people I approached avoided me like the plague. Also, I mistook many Chinese-looking people for China citizens, when they were in fact Korean.

Sometimes, I get really irritating and annoying answers out of interviewees. The one which I hate the most is when the person I'm interviewing turns the table around and I end up being the one getting interviewed.

Example:

Me: So, do you think such an awareness campaign is effective in highlighting human rights abuses taking place in China?

Interviewee: Err...I don't know. What do YOU think?

Me: Erm, I'm asking you the question, not the other way round.

Interviewee: Yeah, I know. But, what do YOU think?

Me: But, now I'm the one asking you the question.

Interviewee: (hyped-up) Yeah, but what do YOU think? I want to know your opinion.

Me: Well, okay. I think the campaign is very effective because it attracts the attention of the media and garners wide media coverage, so more people actually get to know about the internet censorship taking place in China. Because many people in China have absolutely no idea that their government censors the state media.

Interviewee: (Nodding head in agreement) Hmm....yeah, yeah. That's right. What you're saying is right.

Me: No, but that is MY opinion. You are not supposed to throw my own answer back at me.

Also, interestingly, some interviews stray away from the main topic.

Me: Thanks so much for agreeing to do the interview. Can I have your contact number please?

Interviewee: Er...I don't have a contact number because I just arrived in Melbourne yesterday.

Me: Well, okay...how about your house phone then?

Interviewee: Er...I don't have a house.

Me: Okay, can you just give me ANY number at all?

Interviewee: Yeah, okay, how about you give me your number, and I'll put it down.

Me: No, I can't do that! Okay, how about giving me a friend's handphone number?

Interviewee: Er....I don't have any friends. Would you like to be my friend?

Me: Do you really not have a number you can give me? Don't worry, everything will be kept confidential.

Interviewee: Okay, look, I have a friend's handphone with me right now. But, I don't know if it's right to give his number to you.

Me: Well, could you ask him then?

Interviewee: Yeah, okay. But, I can't contact him right now. How about I give you a call when I get his number?

Me: Okay, great.

Interviewee: So, would you like to be my friend? We could meet up for coffee or something.

Me: ...

I had been hanging around for 2 hours approaching random people who looked like they were from China to me. In the end, I found guys were easier to approach than girls, who were far less accommodating. They were either in a rush or turned me down flat.

My life-saver came in the form of someone munching on McDonald's. I was initially apprehensive about approaching her, but in the end, she turned out to be from China! I felt a huge sense of relief after so many failed attempts.

Since she was from China, and insisted on speaking English, I couldn't understand a word she was saying in the beginning. Also, she was a bit reluctant to talk about politics. In the end, we got along so well that we ended up chatting for over half an hour. She told me that it was my persistence that finally made her open up. In the end, the interview I had with her turned out to be one of the most crucial part of my news story.

not the biggest nerd

Friend: Do you know that Caucasian guy and girl?

Me: Yup, I went out clubbing with them once.

Friend: (incredulous look) YOU went clubbing?

Me: Yup.

Friend: You mean you went CLUBBING?

Me: Yup. (sarcastic) And I even smoked and took drugs.

Friend: (shakes head) I think, by the time you get to Year 3, you would have become bad and corrupted.

My friend cannot be more wrong. I am a nerd, and 10 years down the road, I will still be a nerd. 50 years down the road, and I will be an old nerd, if I get to live till that age that is. My purpose of blogging about this is to say that doesn't mean you hang out with people who sleep around, means that one day, you will end up sleeping around. Although it does happen, but I would like to believe that I am not a person who is easily influenced. And, also to tell readers, that although it is hard to believe it, there are bigger nerds than myself around.

protest marches and riots

In conjunction with May Day, there was a protest on the streets of Central Melbourne this afternoon. Men and women, young and old, marched on the streets of Melbourne holding up posters and signboards demanding more rights for workers. Even young children and dogs wearing customized T-shirts with words like, 'May Day' and 'More rights for workers' in support of the protest thronged the streets.

Needless to say, the protest march attracted a lot of attention from passers-by, who stopped to stare or take a couple of photos.

The group who led the protest were decked out in Scottish outfits, armed with heavy band equipments, blowing their trumpets and beating their drums.

On another occasion, April 30, a protest by taxi drivers jammed up the streets of Melbourne's CBD. Photos of a large gathering of taxi drivers, mostly of Indian ethnicity, were splashed all over the major metropolitan newspapers and dailies.

The cabbies whipped off their shirts and sat down in the cross-intersection road just outside the busy streets of Flinders Street Station. The protest occurred because of the fatal stabbing of a fellow taxi-driver. Transport system was disrupted and traffic brought to a halt. Within 22 hours, the government had acceded to most or all of the demands and requests of the cabbies, such as installation of safety screens and mandatory pre-payment of night fares.

This sparked off a copycat scenario the very next day. Commuters taking the train refused to pay their transport fares, to protest against bad service standards. And, when they were caught, they refused to pay the fines. They said that by doing so, the government will listen to them, and they were just following the example demonstrated by the taxi drivers.

hailstorm

My friend in Singapore tells me that the weather back home has been unbearably hot these couple of days, but over here, it's a totally different experience.

At one point this week, the temperature dropped to 8 degree celsius, and was so unbearably cold. In fact, it has been so cold that I experienced my first hailstorm today. For those who don't know what a hailstorm is, basically, it means the combination of ice and hard snow. When the weather gets so cold that it begins to rain ice.

So, instead of raindrops falling all over me, I had pellets of ice raining down upon me. Sweet.

the 'foolish journalist'

We had a little role-play for our class today, where we had to draw lots to pick out a character and act it out in class. The setting was for a 'press conference', and the theme on 'Asian values', where Singapore's draconian laws on hanging without exceptions taking central stage.

The roles were that of Singapore SM Lee Kuan Yew, Malaysia former-PM Mahathir Mohamad, and journalists from all over the world, including South China Morning Post, International Herald Tribune, New York Times and The Straits Times.

As usual, you always pick out the role which you least favour. And, for me, I picked out the role that I would most hate to be in real-life - Journalist for The Straits Times, Singapore.

Well, basically, since the setting was a 'press conference', the main stars were 'Lee' and 'Mahathir', who had to field questions from the 'press'.

Everyone began saying how easy my role was, because basically I had three choices on what I had to do as a journalist with The Straits Times:

(1) Agree with Lee Kuan Yew

(2) Agree with Lee Kuan Yew

(3) Agree with Lee Kuan Yew

How hard was that, really?

And, so, the 'press conference' began. It was basically divided into three groups. 'Lee' (played by this Caucasian guy) & 'Mahathir' (played by another Caucasian guy), the 'Western press' (played by mostly Caucasians) and the 'Asian press' (played by mostly Asians, including myself).

The 'Western press' started off by firing questions mostly at 'Lee', such as why Singapore had to resort to hanging people, instead of sentencing them to life-long sentences.

(Side-track a bit: Hangings in Singapore take place every Friday at 6.05am at Changi Prison, and media coverage usually seen the following week. Singapore journalists actually send their articles to public relations departments to proof-read before sending it to press. And also, some international publications go to the extent of sending their articles to Lee Kuan Yew himself to proof-read before sending it to press.)

A 'Western journalist' argued that a lifetime behind bars was more humane than hanging people. To which 'Lee' replied, "Do you know how much it costs to keep someone in jail?" adding that it was costing taxpayers' money to pay for jail -baits' food, housing etc.

The 'Western press' was pretty aggressive in the beginning, firing non-stop queries, leading 'Lee' to question: "Can we please have some questions from the Asian press?"

So, basically, as I've so clearly outlined my role before, I had to agree with whatever the Caucasian guy (playing Lee) said. Easy enough. But, I ended up making a fool of myself.

Raising my hand, I introduced myself and where I was from, before directing my question at 'Lee'.

"Singapore is building itself up as a global city. So, by hanging people without considering reasons such as why they are bringing drugs into the country, do you think it will taint the image of the city?"

Which I admit was INDEED a very inane question, and TOTALLY OUT OF CONTEXT OF MY ROLE-PLAYING.

To which, 'Lee' turned to the lecturer, puzzled, and sought to confirm which 'publication' I was from again. After confirming, 'Lee' turned to me and said something along the lines of,

"Well, you do know that you need to have
your license renewed annually.
I'm going to have your license revoked."

I know of some Straits Times journalists who have actually been brave enough to voice out their dissent to Lee himself. But, unfortunately, the only outcome of their courageousness was having their press license revoked, and most leave the country disillusioned.

There was a Reuters journalist who also posed a very provocative question to Lee once on the freedom of the press, or lack of it, in Singapore. To which, Lee avoided the question thoroughly and asked totally inconsequential questions of his own, such as the journalist's name and which publication she came from.

I could be wrong, but after answering my question and causing a minor uproar, 'Lee' turned to 'Mahathir' and said that it was a 'foolish' question to ask, which led me to think if it were in a real-life setting, would I have done the same thing? The answer is no. Because it's just not worth it, simple enough.

Well, I got to redeem some of my common sense back later on in the 'conference'. A 'Western journalist' had posed something along this line of question to 'Lee': "Do you think it's right to restrict the freedom of the press and cause your citizens to live in a climate of fear?"

To which, 'Lee' started off by disagreeing that the citizens live in a climate of fear, before trailing off, and finding himself at a loss for words. Cleverly, he turned to me and asked, "Well, what do you have to say, Singapore journalist from The Straits Times?"

My reply went something along the lines of, "Well, I would say that Singapore citizens don't really mind the lack of press freedom. Because they have everything, housing, cars, education...They place economic stability above freedom of speech." To which, I could see my lecturer at the side nodding her head vigorously in agreement.

Having only stood up to 'Lee' in a pretend-setting, I must say that I applaud the journalists who have done so in real-life, but yet I cannot help shaking my head and questioning the outcome of their bravery.

A revoked license. A disillusioned you. And just another statistic that bloggers and senior citizens at the Kopitiam discuss about and the mainstream media indelibly censor out.

Is it really worth it?

the death of a loved one

❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
girl im suffering from a heartbreak
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
becoz my beloved jus died..
sweet ★ promises says:
ok im gg to type WHAT
sweet ★ promises says:
but i think you're talking bt e JJ serial right
sweet ★ promises says:
=)
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
NO I'M TALKING ABOUT REAL LIFE
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
AND I'M REALLY UPSET
sweet ★ promises says:
WHAT ? ?
sweet ★ promises says:
WHO ? ?
sweet ★ promises says:
JJ died ? ?
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
AND VERY DEPRESSED
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
I COULDN'T SLEEP OR EAT PROPERLY EVEN.
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
NO. NOT JJ.
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
ITS MY DARLING.
sweet ★ promises says:
i thot ur darling IS jj
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
LIKE THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE IN MY LIFE.
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
GET IT?
sweet ★ promises says:
ohmygod is it really a person ?
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
MY SONY ERICSSON PHONE DIED YESTERDAY NIGHT LA
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
VERY DEPRESSING CAN
sweet ★ promises says:
OH GOSSSH you gave me a heart break can!
sweet ★ promises says:
but thats still terrible news !!
sweet ★ promises says:
how
sweet ★ promises says:
you dropped into e bowl isit
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
YES
sweet ★ promises says:
what you really did ! TSK !
sweet ★ promises says:
i hope it was a CLEAN bowl
sweet ★ promises says:
=P
sweet ★ promises says:
but ew, toilet bowl =P
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
yeah. and it was a toilet bowl full of shit
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
becoz i haven flushed it yet
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
and the hp dropped in
sweet ★ promises says:
YUCKS tell me you are SO kidding
sweet ★ promises says:
then you deserve to have it die on you after such humiliation !!
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
no i'm not kidding
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
i'm totally serious
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
and u know what else?
sweet ★ promises sent 4/23/2008 5:03 PM:
oh gosh it better be sth not worse than what you've alrdy told me
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
well actually it is
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
but if i tell you, you must promise me not to tell anyone else
sweet ★ promises says:
WAIT I KNOW
sweet ★ promises says:
you took it out w ur bare hands amidst e shit !!
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
OMG, how did u know?????!!!
sweet ★ promises says:
YOU SO DID NOT DO THAT !!
sweet ★ promises says:
dont you have gloves or anything like tt ? ?
sweet ★ promises says:
TONGS ?
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
how else was i supposed to take it out?
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
it was a public toilet, for goodness sakes!!
sweet ★ promises says:
hahhahahaha
sweet ★ promises says:
oh man
sweet ★ promises says:
tissues! LOTS OF TISSUES
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
but that was not what i was going to tell you
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
i was going to tell you something else
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
but then u must promise not to tell anyone?
sweet ★ promises says:
zip mouth shut and throws key out e window
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
ok la its kinda like a secret
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
you see
❤ The Chocolate Writing System ❤ says:
actually, i'm harry potter, and every night, i fly around on a broomstick, and if i touch water, i turn into a mermaid

I might as well mention to you, dear readers, that this is the very same friend who once believed me when I told her I was working as a fireman (or woman). "I put out a fire and saved an entire family today," I said, and she took in every word faithfully, in the same way a Christian believes in the words of the Holy Bible.

The real truth of the death of my handphone is a lot less carnival-fanfare. I forgot to take it out of my jacket and soaked the whole thing in water.

St. Kilda Beach

St.Kilda beach is postcard-perfect.

Especially more so when the sun begins to set, and amazing streaks of pink and orange start to taint the sky.

St. Kilda Beach at Daytime

St. Kilda Beach at Sunset

St. Kilda Beach at Night

And, that's not the best thing about St. Kilda. While loitering around the beach and the sea rocks, we noticed a sign that said penguins come out to play at St. Kilda when night falls. After confirming it with some passers-by, we hanged around, waiting for the penguins' grand arrival. As far as I know, there are a total of three penguins at St. Kilda. Shy creatures by nature, they cower behind a stumble of rocks, and never really come out to meet people. Photos are not allowed, but...

Penguin hiding behind rocks

Close-up of Penguin

Seagulls at lighthouse

Close-up of seagulls

Just some of the thousands of boats floating above the seas

When we were about to leave, we stopped for a chat with this fisherman. He was only one of the many people fishing at St. Kilda. Apparently, he had been here for quite some time, and haven't had a single catch yet. During our conversation, his fishing pole started stirring. He had caught a fish! Just as he was reeling his catch in and placing the fish into the white bucket, his second fishing pool started jumping as well. He had caught another fish! Before we left, this gentlemen held our hands and thanked us. "You bring me good luck," he said, the resounding ending note of our time spent at St. Kilda.

i want to go home

Once the novelty has worn off, I miss the familiarity I once had.

fuck you

I'm not scared of loneliness.
If I were, I wouldn't have come all the way to Australia all by myself.

Suddenly, three years seem like an eternity.

clubbing: billboard style ver 1.0

I went clubbing on Saturday night with a few of my mates at Billboard. Basically, clubs are a mass gathering and the 'celebration' of the wastage of so much human potential.

Young people, with really bad dancing, attention-seekers trying to fit into the 'cool' bracket, girls with outfits that one of my ex-colleagues term 'half of her moon is showing', and guys looking for a free fuck.
Loud, blaring music. Cool, hip people. Outrageous dress sense. And, some of the rare few with So You Think You Can Dance? worthy dance moves.

It amazes me how my friends who are all great dancers, can dance for more than three hours without stopping. Vic, who is from Russia, got onto the tabletop and danced continuously for three hours straight, no breaks in between.

This guy, with piercings all over his face, asked me to take a picture of him in this body-builder posture. Here are his 5 seconds worth of fame in this humble blog of mine.

This couple (OR RANDOM STRANGERS, I REALLY HAVE NO IDEA) were engaged in some sort of dirty dancing. Dance, kiss, separate, dance, kiss, separate, guy walks off, friend joins girl, and then both get back together again. Repeat above.

Halfway, I caught one of my friends chatting with a very decent-looking Malay guy. Initially, I assumed that they knew each other. But, then something about my friend's demeanour, triggered off alarm bells ringing within me. Something inside me snapped and I just knew something wasn't right. My instincts were later proven correct.

This Malay dude proceeded to whisper something in my friend's ear. Again and again. While my friend listened intently. "Do you know him?" I wanted to ask, but the blaring music made any sort of hearing nearly impossible.

My friend, clearly drunk, would later confess that she couldn't hear a word the dude was saying. I guess the dude took my friend's drunken disposition as silent acquiescence, for the next thing I knew, he had a firm grip on my friend and was dragging her across the dancefloor. Hand on heart, I didn't want to intrude, especially if the both of them knew each other. With a million questions racing through my head, my feet did the thinking for me. My steps quickened with each beat of the music, as I whizzed past the dancefloors, the table tops, to come to the bar.

Now, the Malay dude was talking to my friend again. But, in a split of a second, all the dynamics shifted. He pressed my friend against the wall, his body against her, and he was kissing my friend on the lips. My friend said, 'No', but the guy persisted. It was clear enough that he wanted to bring her home. Confused, shocked and disconcerted, I found myself reaching for my friend, pulling her away from the guy, turning on my heels and walking away. My head was reeling from all the shock and the mystifying turn of events.

These guys are so cheap. They go to clubs, pay a cover charge of 15, and scan the dancefloors for a free shag. Suddenly, I find that guys who pay for prostitutes are waayyyy classier. So, when my friend T told me: "If you dance, you get to meet some really nice guys," I shot him back with, "If you dance, you get to meet all the wrong sort of guys."

The night was called to an abrupt stop when all the lights went up, the music went dead, and the security guards started chasing everyone out. I checked my watch. 3.10.

When it was time to leave, we caught M scribbling his number on some Asian chick's hand. Apparently, the chick wanted his number, and he said, 'No', but he could give her his number instead. What's the attraction factor that Asian girls have towards Aussie guys? The exoticness that allures them to something unknown, tantalizing, fascinating, strange and the very unfamiliar?

After a couple of drinks....

S: "Cheryl, I swear, you are my best Uni friend ever!"

C: "Er....okay. Right.....but I've only known you for a while..."

S: "NO! That's not true! I've known you for TWO weeks."

I SWEAR drunk people have no idea what they are talking about.

more than meets the eyes

In most people's eyes, holidays have become a festival of convivial merry-making, school holidays, time-off from the banality of life to smell the proverbial flowers by the roadside.

These festivals have become so commercialized that how many of us actually truly know the meaning of these festivals, that these calendar dates actually mark the death of these saintly mortals?

During Good Friday and Easter, crucifixions in honour of Jesus take place every year in the Philippines, the only country in Asia that has a predominantly Roman-catholic population.

Children as young as fifteen are pinned to crosses, have 6-inch pins driven into their flesh, and have to endure blistering pain as whips are slashed across their backs hours before the crucifixions take place.

The voluntary participants line up as they wait for their turn to be crucified for an excruciating five minutes under the relentless scorching sun. As pins the size of an adult's little finger are hammered through their flesh, you witness their faces twisting into tormented expressions, and blood pours down their faces and bodies. It is a gory, bloody sight to behold.

Sadly, even the evil claws of commercialization have found their way into such activities. Stalls are set up nearby selling items like souvenir whips and even VIP tickets are sold for spectators wishing to have an upfront view of these real-life crucifixions going on right before their very eyes.

Such events are treated with all-seriousness in the Philippines, being the only Catholic nation in Asia. During the Easter festival, bloodshed has a whole different meaning with the Filipinos. During processions, they cut their backs with broken glass, until their entire back is covered with blood, some of which inadvertently splattering onto the cutter's hands.

In such reconstructions of how Jesus died on the cross, these acts of self-flagellations are seen to be a washing away or atonement of sins, as well as to bring blessings for the family.

The entire significance of the event has been lost through the meaningless blood-fest tastelessly packaged as a spectator sport, ad nauseum in its masquerading as a glorification or tribute to Jesus. The volunteers who have the pins pierced through their flesh do it for base reasons, and lack true understanding of the crucifixions.

I think such processes lend new meaning to Good Friday and Easter, that in some countries, it is more than just cute bunnies and chocolates eggs.

the ugly duckling among the swans

Before I came to Melbourne to study journalism, my friend who is studying media in Perth told me,

"No matter which class you go to, there will definitely be ONE Singaporean. I went to a class, there were 23 students. 11 were Singaporeans, and 12 were Aussies."

My friend's right.

No matter which class I go to, there will always at least be ONE Singaporean.

And, that's myself.

It was hard getting used to the idea. Going to a class full of yellow heads and blondes, where you are the only Asian, where no one bothered to talk to you, where the Aussies congregate, where you feel different, out of place, foreign. Before I came here, I had a very idealistic view. But, after I came here, I noticed that EVERYONE sticks to people who are a mirror reflection of themselves. The Asians stick with the Asians, the Aussies stick to the Aussies. That's the rules of the game. You either stick to it or you rewrite the rules. Most people do the former.

In a world where the Chinese stick to the Chinese, the Westerners stick to the Westerners, being the only Asian studying Journalism (an unpopular course in the East, no doubt), with no Vietnamese, no Malaysians, no Indonesians to turn to (my Modern Asia class is the only exception), you are forced into a situation whereby you have to change things.

Any Asian student who has ever studied in Australia can tell you how difficult it is to make friends with the Aussies. Reasons have been given for this: saying that Aussies may not be as confident as they appear to be, they might have the same insecurities as the foreign students, and so they choose to mix with their own kind.

But the rule of the game is: You have to be the first to throw the dice.

You see so many Asians on the street that you forget this is Melbourne, that this is a Western country (afflicted with the "Sydney disease" - large influx of foreigners). But, then you take a further look, and you realize the great segregation of skin colours.

F1 Ferrari Fever @ Lygon Street

This post is specially dedicated to my friend Dee, who is nuts about F1. Happy 21st babe.

Hand on heart, I did everything I could to dig up every last piece of information bone-dry on the Australian Grand Prix because my friend is a fan of F1 and Kimi Raikkonen.

I even searched the internet for details on Kimi's flight, but some of my guy friends who are into F1 told me that it costs at least $80 for the cheapest ticket to the Grand Prix. So, it would be wiser to watch it on TV for free.

So, I thought that at the very least, I could make my way down to Albert Park on the day itself. But guess what? All the tram services have been shut down due to the Grand Prix!

So when this Aussie friend working at an Italian restaurant informed us that there was going to be a Ferrari showcase ("where people go to see the models, not the cars"), I went nuts.

The entire Lygon Street was brimming with activity, restaurants having outrageous promotions, Italians who are HUGE, HUGE fans of F1. Trust me, I hear the word F1 wherever I go.

The F1 merchandise is sold for crazily high prices, a jacket alone costs $180, and an autographed memorabilia of Kimi costs $200++. It's crazy.

The night ended on a note of disappointment, as you can see from the photos below. There wasn't much to see at all, even when I returned at a later timing.

Lunch at the famous Lygon Street. This is seriously the only place I know in Melbourne that operates on a 24-hour basis.

It has built up a well reputation for housing a smorgasbord of high-class dining eateries. The prices of the food are equally high-class.

Here you see me having pasta for lunch. See the wine and see the plain water that I'm having. The wine owner recommended the sweetest type of wine to me, and I still found it bitter! Apparently, its a medley of rose and raspberry, and the bright, ripe colour gives an idea of how sweet it is supposed to be. I guess, unlike Aussies, I don't have a 'European's stomach' ( a term used to describe people who can consume large quantities of wine in a single seating) for wine.













A giant poster of Kimi. Or at least what I think is Kimi. For god's sake, I have no idea what Kimi looks like exactly, so please forgive me, if the guy in the photo is some random dude instead of Kimi.

youth is wasted on the young

My friend ruffles through her bag, takes out a cigarette and brings it to her lips. "Ahhhh..." A mild form of ecstasy passes her face briefly as wisps of smoke danced around her. "I haven't smoked, like, the whole day."

I sit beside her, witnessing my friend in her marathon run to get lung cancer. She's doing well in the race.

"So..." I begin. "Your aim is to get lung cancer, huh?"

My friend's face tells me she doesn't like the sound of that. She is silent for a moment before asserting, "I don't smoke a lot. I only smoke, like, once a day!"

"Yeah, that adds up to 365 times a year." I pause. "That's like, 365 attempts to get lung cancer!"

My friend doesn't look pleased at all. Honesty is a rare commodity, nowadays.

My friend, who is a heavy drinker and smoker, laments that I do neither of those. "It's a pity you don't drink, because it's when you drink, that you talk crap." And, her argument is that you can have a hell of a great time, bonding and talking crap with your friends when you are drunk-pissed.

What good is verbal diarrhoea if all that comes out is shit and crap? (pun totally intended)

This is why George Bernard Shaw said: "Youth is wasted on the young." We are at the peak of our physical health, our minds are at its most alert, and what do we decide to do with this boon? We go out, party, and get ourselves drunk-pissed.

Nice.

"So, basically, you don't drink, you don't smoke, and you don't do weed." One second later, "That's pretty good, you know."

Sometimes, I forbid my friend to smoke, and she listens. And, because I don't drink, it means that time spent with me isn't spent on drinking.

I think that I'm a very positive influence. This is the reason why people should try hanging out with nerds more often.

road trip

On an early Saturday morning, the seven of us made our way to Mount Dandenong. We set out in two separate cars, and it was a one-and-a-half-hour journey from the city.

Halfway, we had some car trouble. One of the car's wheel got stuck in a pile of debris and had trouble reversing. So, we had to get out of the car, which was halted in the middle of a down way slope. Meanwhile, a middle-aged lady living nearby was peeping her head outside to see what the ruckus was all about.

One of our pit-stops - where we could feed the birds - the cockatoos and the parrots. The cockatoos were an aggressive bunch, and one of us got bitten. Here, you can see a cockatoo happily munching on food.





















































This is the part where supposedly you can see the whole of Melbourne from where you are standing.




















Just your typical English Garden - flowing gushes of little streams of rivers, green shrubbery, flowers (some in their full bloom, others in a withering state), bridges, benches, old and young people.

The girls - on one of the benches in The English Garden

The guys - on The Giant's Chair.

Apparently, there is a legend (to trick small kids) that whenever the monster who lived in the Stone Age got tired, he would traipse his way to The Giant's Chair where he laid to rest.





















































Miss Marple's Tea Room, a cute cottage outside flanked by acres and acres of creeping greenery, inside is like straight out of a movie set - replete with teapots, cackling firewood, photos of Miss Marples (a movie character), and waitresses decked out in cute, tablecloth-inspired dresses and aprons.

We had British-style breakfast of Scottish origin - freshly-baked Devonshire scones, complete with a heavenly combination of soft vanilla cream and jam.

pardon me.

For my previous post, I recieved some flak from a couple of total strangers for NOT raising my hands when my lecturer asked if there were any Singaporeans in class.

Many seem to have gotten the idea that I was ashamed to raise up my hand become I was embarrassed of the country that I grew up in.

YOU GUYS ARE SO WRONG.

However, to say that I didn't raise my hand because I was a Singaporean, and because I was born that way, then you've got it right. As one reader put it, "Shows how much of Singaporean indoctrination you've gotten into you already."

I once read an article that Singaporeans who have emigrated overseas or are just staying in foreign countries on a temporary basis, love to fade into the background. They seldom do or say things that makes them stand out from the crowd, but rather, they seem contented to remain just another face in the sea of crowds.

Another reader lamented that it was a shame that I choose to melt into the background, and that "The country has no connection with you, apart from the fact that you were born there. "

REALLY???

I have no idea why he would choose to romanticise the entire scenario. The truth is, people have their own biasness and prejudices, and people form baseless opinions of you just based on your nationality. For example, I would say that China people have a pretty bad reputation among Asians in Australia. And, even if you were just a product of your country, there is no denying the fact that the culture you grew up in has a very vital role in shaping and forming you as an individual.

Also, just as a final thought, as another reader also pointed out, if I had really went on to raise my hand, would the lecturer then have minced his words? On the other hand, wouldn't it be interesting for the lecturer to speak with unbridled flow, without biting his tongue or toning down his language just because there was a Singaporean around? Maybe only then could he really say what he intended to say.

And, that's probably the best excuse I can give for not raising up my hand.