It's an awesome view of the field
Posted by Picasa
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Not to sound like a complete bimbo, but really, the only thing that made sense to me through the entire game were the cheerleaders
Posted by Picasa
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Hmm...
It just struck me, in the middle of the uni library, while supposedly studying religious violence and cults, that Araluena is not dong. Cause' you left a message helping me with my spam prob, and I thought you were my friend dong, for no apparent reason. So as procrastination, i logged onto my uni internet, and tried to trek down who you are. Your blog doesn't give out much clues...but i think i can sort of figure it out. sorry...just one of those random tuesday afternoons.
Ok back to religious violence and cults.
Ok back to religious violence and cults.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Someone say Chinatown...
Another really random night...i find myself on a friday night 10pm standing in front of the mineral water section with S discussing which is the best mineral water in town....we deliberated over the cost of water, which water taste better and how tap water here taste like my puke after 6 shots of vodka. Trust me, I know.
So there we were discussing the final details of our water drinking habits and whether the size of the bottle matters when E calls and says "What ya doing guys?" And I said "Checking out the mineral water section." And he cracks up. Because who wouldn, that is after all the lamest thing two girls can do on a friday night.
So after we got him to carry 24 bottles of mineral water to my room, we went over to the all- asian frat party. We were basically looking for the house with alot of asian people outside. It could be a gambling den for all we knew. We finally hit the house with the skinny girls, straight black hair and eye-liner eyes. And the guys who had spiky dragon-ball hair and one ear studs. Such a crack up. Its funny when you are in another country looking for your own race. Kinda feels like baby zebras looking for mama zebras in a herd of goats. '
What's funnier is when asian people go to an asian party and exclaim, "whao there are so many asian people here." What were you expecting, romanian clowns?
So we danced for a while in the oven of a room and got shoved in and packed when the police came around and we all had to cramp in.
But the best part of the night was still when E and I sat at the entrance and played the "would you sleep with him/her/it game?" It kinda went like...
E: How about him..yeah the short guy in the glasses
Me: NOOOOOO!! Comeon, even my brother looks hotter than that. How about the girl in the red skirt.
E: Are you kidding, thats a face my mum would love. How about first guy on the stairwell?
Me: No way. in fact, no to that, and that, and ...actually...no to everyone in the stairwell. And on the ledge. That guy looks pretty decent....no wait...thats disgusting, he's wearing visors...thats a no....no...no...no...no...you know what Eddie, there are no decent looking guys in penn.
E: That girl looks kinda cute......from far. Like really far.
That was one hell of a superficial night. But you know what, we were at a frat party, it was 1am, i have one stuffed up nose with a flooded depressurized nasal cavity and people there were dressed up to be judged. So I'll let that one slip for the night. And tomorrow i'll wake up and tell you that beauty is only skin deep.
So there we were discussing the final details of our water drinking habits and whether the size of the bottle matters when E calls and says "What ya doing guys?" And I said "Checking out the mineral water section." And he cracks up. Because who wouldn, that is after all the lamest thing two girls can do on a friday night.
So after we got him to carry 24 bottles of mineral water to my room, we went over to the all- asian frat party. We were basically looking for the house with alot of asian people outside. It could be a gambling den for all we knew. We finally hit the house with the skinny girls, straight black hair and eye-liner eyes. And the guys who had spiky dragon-ball hair and one ear studs. Such a crack up. Its funny when you are in another country looking for your own race. Kinda feels like baby zebras looking for mama zebras in a herd of goats. '
What's funnier is when asian people go to an asian party and exclaim, "whao there are so many asian people here." What were you expecting, romanian clowns?
So we danced for a while in the oven of a room and got shoved in and packed when the police came around and we all had to cramp in.
But the best part of the night was still when E and I sat at the entrance and played the "would you sleep with him/her/it game?" It kinda went like...
E: How about him..yeah the short guy in the glasses
Me: NOOOOOO!! Comeon, even my brother looks hotter than that. How about the girl in the red skirt.
E: Are you kidding, thats a face my mum would love. How about first guy on the stairwell?
Me: No way. in fact, no to that, and that, and ...actually...no to everyone in the stairwell. And on the ledge. That guy looks pretty decent....no wait...thats disgusting, he's wearing visors...thats a no....no...no...no...no...you know what Eddie, there are no decent looking guys in penn.
E: That girl looks kinda cute......from far. Like really far.
That was one hell of a superficial night. But you know what, we were at a frat party, it was 1am, i have one stuffed up nose with a flooded depressurized nasal cavity and people there were dressed up to be judged. So I'll let that one slip for the night. And tomorrow i'll wake up and tell you that beauty is only skin deep.
Monday, September 12, 2005
My favourite part of Chicago, the big bean! It is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen in my whole life. It reflects the cityscape and looks like a giant UFO.
Posted by Picasa
And all that Jazz....
Chicago in 42 hours. Who could ever believe?
Besides the fact that we stayed in a suburban hotel with the closest railway station to chicago being a one and a half hour walk away, and no taxis in sight, Chicago was amazing.
What was initially a crazy impulse trip where we would arrive back in Philly one hour before my first class began (I made it with one minute to spare), the trip became a fantastic teaser of the great Chicago. To me, Chicago felt a bit like a freak show, a city with the most unique architecture, with air thick from pollution and pathways lined with jazz musicians. Home to numerous jazz musicians and Al Capone, Chicago was beautiful and scary at the same time.
Although we never made it into the Chicago Institute of Art, or walked into a single shop along the Magnificiant mile, or found the Playboy building or the Leather Museum of S&M (trust me, we were looking hard), or eat the famous deep dish pizza at Gino East, our crazy breakneck speed around Chicago was ambitious and successful enough.
We saw the sears tower, shopped in the shop opposite the institute of art, went to the millenium park, got up the John Hancork building (we realised once we were in the building on the 96 floor that it was Sep 11), appreciated jazz at Jazz Showcase where Ray Charles and other famous Jazz musicians used to play and had the worst tasting pizza ever at Uno Pizzaria. We ogled sailors at Navy Pier, marvelled more architecture, made slit eye bug teeth faces in Chinatown (i was almost certain we were gonna get shot) and finally woke up t 4am today dreading school because none of us prepared for class (that's why I'm here blogging and not in class, because my lecturer WILL kill me).
So all in all, it was a great trip. Packed, crazy and random, it made me realise how hilarious guys can get when confronted with one bed, and three guys in the hotel room.
Besides the fact that we stayed in a suburban hotel with the closest railway station to chicago being a one and a half hour walk away, and no taxis in sight, Chicago was amazing.
What was initially a crazy impulse trip where we would arrive back in Philly one hour before my first class began (I made it with one minute to spare), the trip became a fantastic teaser of the great Chicago. To me, Chicago felt a bit like a freak show, a city with the most unique architecture, with air thick from pollution and pathways lined with jazz musicians. Home to numerous jazz musicians and Al Capone, Chicago was beautiful and scary at the same time.
Although we never made it into the Chicago Institute of Art, or walked into a single shop along the Magnificiant mile, or found the Playboy building or the Leather Museum of S&M (trust me, we were looking hard), or eat the famous deep dish pizza at Gino East, our crazy breakneck speed around Chicago was ambitious and successful enough.
We saw the sears tower, shopped in the shop opposite the institute of art, went to the millenium park, got up the John Hancork building (we realised once we were in the building on the 96 floor that it was Sep 11), appreciated jazz at Jazz Showcase where Ray Charles and other famous Jazz musicians used to play and had the worst tasting pizza ever at Uno Pizzaria. We ogled sailors at Navy Pier, marvelled more architecture, made slit eye bug teeth faces in Chinatown (i was almost certain we were gonna get shot) and finally woke up t 4am today dreading school because none of us prepared for class (that's why I'm here blogging and not in class, because my lecturer WILL kill me).
So all in all, it was a great trip. Packed, crazy and random, it made me realise how hilarious guys can get when confronted with one bed, and three guys in the hotel room.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Huh? Say that again?
People here actually study.
People here actually do their readings.
People here actually pay attention in class.
People here actually raise up their hands to answer questions in class.
Lecturers here actually ask you questions in class and insinuate that they remember me and I'll be next.
Shit.
People here actually do their readings.
People here actually pay attention in class.
People here actually raise up their hands to answer questions in class.
Lecturers here actually ask you questions in class and insinuate that they remember me and I'll be next.
Shit.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
I got hit by a car
No really...i really got hit by a car. I told my american-chinese friend and he said "Welcome to the united states, home of reckless driving."
Was heading out in a car to the 66th street for Korean dinner with a couple of church friends I just met at Tenth this morning. Was salivating over bibimbap and kimchi soup and talking to Arlene and Mel about .... alot of stuff. One minute we were talking the next there was a violent jerk, a crashing sound, the windscreen shattered, the airbags opened and the car started smoking.
My train of thoughts:
Shit
I think we hit something. Or got hit by something.
Everyone alive and kicking?
Get out of the car.
image of car exploding hollywood style.
Yeah.....everyone was fine except for David. His cheek was a little bruised up with scratches and he had a ringing in his ear. Ambulance came, brought him to the hospital and we stood around waiting for the police to take our statements.
Apparently, we were waiting to turn at an intersection and it was our turn. We took a left turn and this car just came right at us and smashed into us. They know they were in the wrong. They were trying to tow away the car before insurance could get to it.
So yeah, one smashed up car, alot of curious neighbours and a million cars driving past our smashed up car and honking at it (for goodness sake, thats like kicking a corpse and saying get outta my way, like that would so happen), we finally got our Korean dinner.
Hope everything is alright with the car. Heard it didn't belong to the driver.
Yeah, so that was highlight of the week. Arlene and I rode back in someone elses car completely pertrified that we were gonna crash again.
Was heading out in a car to the 66th street for Korean dinner with a couple of church friends I just met at Tenth this morning. Was salivating over bibimbap and kimchi soup and talking to Arlene and Mel about .... alot of stuff. One minute we were talking the next there was a violent jerk, a crashing sound, the windscreen shattered, the airbags opened and the car started smoking.
My train of thoughts:
Shit
I think we hit something. Or got hit by something.
Everyone alive and kicking?
Get out of the car.
image of car exploding hollywood style.
Yeah.....everyone was fine except for David. His cheek was a little bruised up with scratches and he had a ringing in his ear. Ambulance came, brought him to the hospital and we stood around waiting for the police to take our statements.
Apparently, we were waiting to turn at an intersection and it was our turn. We took a left turn and this car just came right at us and smashed into us. They know they were in the wrong. They were trying to tow away the car before insurance could get to it.
So yeah, one smashed up car, alot of curious neighbours and a million cars driving past our smashed up car and honking at it (for goodness sake, thats like kicking a corpse and saying get outta my way, like that would so happen), we finally got our Korean dinner.
Hope everything is alright with the car. Heard it didn't belong to the driver.
Yeah, so that was highlight of the week. Arlene and I rode back in someone elses car completely pertrified that we were gonna crash again.
Best frat party ever!
I had absolutely no idea where we were, which frat house we were in, which street we were on, but last night was the best frat party experience to date. The free alcohol (aside from beer), aka the screwdriver that tasted like vodka spiked with orange juice must have been the drawing factor. Besides the DJ that can't multitask taking requests and pressing the button on his mac, the crowd was terrific. Mainly international students, it made me feel like being back at one of those basement parties in IH again.
I always wondered how frat parties were like. The types we see heaps of on trashy teenybopper movies of blonds, tits and jocks. The first two i went for were: in two words, scary shit. Totally swarmed by upperclassmen who i have never met before, everyone was drinking out of trashcans and getting a cheap shot at watered down beer. No one danced. There wasn't even music. Everyone kinda just bobbed around looking drunk and exclaiming " OH MY GOD!!! THAT'S TOTALLY AWESOME!" Twice two girls screamed and i thought someone got hit by a car. Turned out they were just excited.
So i left. Bitched on the phone. Thought, will i ever grow to appreciate true american greek life. Not that i have to. But i might as well experience it well I'm in the states.
And thus came this party, which i suspect was at an international frat house. And I'm ashame to admit it, but I bloody loved it.
Thus the three singaporeans, two moroccans, one american and one dutch partied the night away.
The photos will have to wait. I can't find my card.
I always wondered how frat parties were like. The types we see heaps of on trashy teenybopper movies of blonds, tits and jocks. The first two i went for were: in two words, scary shit. Totally swarmed by upperclassmen who i have never met before, everyone was drinking out of trashcans and getting a cheap shot at watered down beer. No one danced. There wasn't even music. Everyone kinda just bobbed around looking drunk and exclaiming " OH MY GOD!!! THAT'S TOTALLY AWESOME!" Twice two girls screamed and i thought someone got hit by a car. Turned out they were just excited.
So i left. Bitched on the phone. Thought, will i ever grow to appreciate true american greek life. Not that i have to. But i might as well experience it well I'm in the states.
And thus came this party, which i suspect was at an international frat house. And I'm ashame to admit it, but I bloody loved it.
Thus the three singaporeans, two moroccans, one american and one dutch partied the night away.
The photos will have to wait. I can't find my card.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Adventures of the midget in giant land
Things that should go on America's funniest home video: A picture of a 5'1 dwarf wrestling with two suitcases, one that is almost her height, while trying to get onto the Amtrak train to Philadelphia. Suitcases were exceptionally naughty that day. They refused to sit in the overhead compartment, refused to fit into the luggage closet and insisted on being a fire hazard.
But yeah, I survived. Cut to picture of midget dragging two plastic bags, once again almost her height, across K-mart and back home.
Home is a dodgy rotting brick building that look like one of those shell-shocked Eastern European mansions that have been blasted and plundered. Room looks pretty neat though. Kudos for the quasi walk in cupboard. Of course as God's little joke, it couldn't have been given to me at a better time, now that most of my possessions are either in Melbourne or Singapore.
Home home home. I realised now that though I orgasmed in Jimmy Choos (alse seen in Sex and the City), fainted in front of Tiffany's $1.8 million dollar engagement ring (also seen in Breakfast at Tiffany's), ate at Joe's Pizza (also seen in Spiderman), posed in front of the Arch (also seen in When Harry met Sally), kissed the steps of Carrie's apartment (also seen in SATC), ate an 8-cm diameter crabcake from mexican-japanese fusion restaurant Zamba Sushi (also seen in SATC, I went for the SATC tour dammit), licked the rice pudding- encrusted spoon at Rice to Riches (also seen in Hitch), watched a broadway show (also seen in Broadway), briskwalked Central Park (also seen in all american movies involving a park and new york) and gaped at the White House (also seen in the background when Bush makes a speech), HOME is not where my Hollywood fantasies are. Even though their Elizabeth Arden shop actually had the signature red doors.
New York and Washington were *with an American accent* FABULOUS. It was like someone put a magnifying glass over Melbourne or Singapore and sprinkled alot of good shopping and food into it. It was like the world has conglomerated into one place, where every race and every brand and every crusine could be found.
Cultural schizophernia? Hell yeah! I arrived in New York, lived with an Indian family, went to an Indian festival, ate Thai food, moved in with a Jewish family, had Mexican-Japanese food and now is living with a Polish-Mexican-American roomate and meeting people with the most exotic mixes (taiwanese living in Brazil, Chinese living in France, Hong Konger living in Agentina and Peru ). The Chinese are seriously everywhere. This place is a melting pot. Cliched but true.
But I miss home like crazy. But which is home? I miss holland village and orchard road as much as lygon street and brunswick. I miss my house in Singapore as much as I miss international house. I miss my friends both in Singapore and in Melbourne. I miss my family. It sucks to miss one place, and now I miss two.
When I introduce myself to people, it doesn't just stop at "Hi, I'm Singaporean." It's " Hi, I'm Singaporean but on an exchange from Australia."
Whoever said home is where the heart is, is obviously an idiot. The heart doesn't see geographical boundaries.
And as for now, its back to the philly cheesesteaks, cheap levi's and upsized Macdonalds that look genetically mutated. If 6ft big tall Chris from Australia says, " Damm things here are big", yeah, take my word for it, things here are not just big because I'm a tiny person.
But yeah, I survived. Cut to picture of midget dragging two plastic bags, once again almost her height, across K-mart and back home.
Home is a dodgy rotting brick building that look like one of those shell-shocked Eastern European mansions that have been blasted and plundered. Room looks pretty neat though. Kudos for the quasi walk in cupboard. Of course as God's little joke, it couldn't have been given to me at a better time, now that most of my possessions are either in Melbourne or Singapore.
Home home home. I realised now that though I orgasmed in Jimmy Choos (alse seen in Sex and the City), fainted in front of Tiffany's $1.8 million dollar engagement ring (also seen in Breakfast at Tiffany's), ate at Joe's Pizza (also seen in Spiderman), posed in front of the Arch (also seen in When Harry met Sally), kissed the steps of Carrie's apartment (also seen in SATC), ate an 8-cm diameter crabcake from mexican-japanese fusion restaurant Zamba Sushi (also seen in SATC, I went for the SATC tour dammit), licked the rice pudding- encrusted spoon at Rice to Riches (also seen in Hitch), watched a broadway show (also seen in Broadway), briskwalked Central Park (also seen in all american movies involving a park and new york) and gaped at the White House (also seen in the background when Bush makes a speech), HOME is not where my Hollywood fantasies are. Even though their Elizabeth Arden shop actually had the signature red doors.
New York and Washington were *with an American accent* FABULOUS. It was like someone put a magnifying glass over Melbourne or Singapore and sprinkled alot of good shopping and food into it. It was like the world has conglomerated into one place, where every race and every brand and every crusine could be found.
Cultural schizophernia? Hell yeah! I arrived in New York, lived with an Indian family, went to an Indian festival, ate Thai food, moved in with a Jewish family, had Mexican-Japanese food and now is living with a Polish-Mexican-American roomate and meeting people with the most exotic mixes (taiwanese living in Brazil, Chinese living in France, Hong Konger living in Agentina and Peru ). The Chinese are seriously everywhere. This place is a melting pot. Cliched but true.
But I miss home like crazy. But which is home? I miss holland village and orchard road as much as lygon street and brunswick. I miss my house in Singapore as much as I miss international house. I miss my friends both in Singapore and in Melbourne. I miss my family. It sucks to miss one place, and now I miss two.
When I introduce myself to people, it doesn't just stop at "Hi, I'm Singaporean." It's " Hi, I'm Singaporean but on an exchange from Australia."
Whoever said home is where the heart is, is obviously an idiot. The heart doesn't see geographical boundaries.
And as for now, its back to the philly cheesesteaks, cheap levi's and upsized Macdonalds that look genetically mutated. If 6ft big tall Chris from Australia says, " Damm things here are big", yeah, take my word for it, things here are not just big because I'm a tiny person.
Time Square while queuing for over an hour for half-price tickets to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Posted by Picasa
Little Italy....its getting smaller with each passing year because Chinatown, which is right next to it, is expanding and eating into its space...
Posted by Picasa
New Jersey shore with the biggest scariest looking seagulls I have ever seen....they actually have to pay to get onto the beach...
Posted by Picasa
On the steps of Carrie's apartment, no where near where they claimed she lived in the show
Posted by Picasa
One of these apartments cost a couple of million dollars. Grotty looking? Not if you have the view of Central Park, also seen above.
Posted by Picasa
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)