Friday, July 04, 2008
I'm back. For now.
*Takes a deep breath*
Hi there. Do you still remember me? The last time we met was almost a year ago.
Thank you, Mui Kee. You've inspired me to start blogging again. (Hopefully consistently)
Thank you, Becky. Your gentle probing seems to have worked. (somewhat)
My writing skills have become rusty. The only writing I seem to do nowadays involved name dropping a few impressive sounding names with their impressive sounding ideas, chuck in a few footnotes, and cross my fingers while some stranger scrutinises my hastily put together words and then assigns a value to it.
And when essay-time is over, the kinds of writing I do, is all "Dear John" and "kind regards" and "I'm not paying the bloody phone bill, ya' hear!" Except more polite.
And when I take the final weary steps out of the office and leave outlook emails, faxes and phone messages behind, I volunteer to write copy for a film website, a job so entirely draining and un-exciting I think I'm going to be kicked out soon.
Sometimes I write in my diary, but not often enough, and as a substitue for weepy phonecalls to sympathetic ears who can't really help me, instead of the other way round. Who/ what is the more reliable sounding board?
-------
I'm currently in Singapore.
It always takes me a while to acclimatise, the humidity just kills. I remember New Year's Eve 2007, when it hit 42 degrees in Melbourne. I felt like I was slowly being baked alive, the heat all dry and crackly and strong and relentless. In Singapore the temperature is usually hovers around thirty degrees, but the humidity provides this steam blanket than envelopes your entire body and crawls into dark places, tickles you beneath the pits and causes long trails of perspiration that just refuses to evaporate because of the moist sponge of enveloping air won't let any of its molecular brothers rise to meet them.
The question is - would you rather be a dark crispy roast, or a soft moist pao?
----------
I'm meeting a friend for lunch tomorrow. He's coming to pick me up from my house, and we are driving... somewhere. He's a friend from Melbourne. We were not on speaking terms for the most part of the semester just passed. He blocked me from MSN until (presumably) his last paper ended. And after that, he unblocked me.
It's a long story.
He's not good with women, and I'm not good with misogynists.
We'll see how tomorrow bears out.
Hi there. Do you still remember me? The last time we met was almost a year ago.
Thank you, Mui Kee. You've inspired me to start blogging again. (Hopefully consistently)
Thank you, Becky. Your gentle probing seems to have worked. (somewhat)
My writing skills have become rusty. The only writing I seem to do nowadays involved name dropping a few impressive sounding names with their impressive sounding ideas, chuck in a few footnotes, and cross my fingers while some stranger scrutinises my hastily put together words and then assigns a value to it.
And when essay-time is over, the kinds of writing I do, is all "Dear John" and "kind regards" and "I'm not paying the bloody phone bill, ya' hear!" Except more polite.
And when I take the final weary steps out of the office and leave outlook emails, faxes and phone messages behind, I volunteer to write copy for a film website, a job so entirely draining and un-exciting I think I'm going to be kicked out soon.
Sometimes I write in my diary, but not often enough, and as a substitue for weepy phonecalls to sympathetic ears who can't really help me, instead of the other way round. Who/ what is the more reliable sounding board?
-------
I'm currently in Singapore.
It always takes me a while to acclimatise, the humidity just kills. I remember New Year's Eve 2007, when it hit 42 degrees in Melbourne. I felt like I was slowly being baked alive, the heat all dry and crackly and strong and relentless. In Singapore the temperature is usually hovers around thirty degrees, but the humidity provides this steam blanket than envelopes your entire body and crawls into dark places, tickles you beneath the pits and causes long trails of perspiration that just refuses to evaporate because of the moist sponge of enveloping air won't let any of its molecular brothers rise to meet them.
The question is - would you rather be a dark crispy roast, or a soft moist pao?
----------
I'm meeting a friend for lunch tomorrow. He's coming to pick me up from my house, and we are driving... somewhere. He's a friend from Melbourne. We were not on speaking terms for the most part of the semester just passed. He blocked me from MSN until (presumably) his last paper ended. And after that, he unblocked me.
It's a long story.
He's not good with women, and I'm not good with misogynists.
We'll see how tomorrow bears out.
Labels: Friends, Singapore, Travel, Weather
