KL's Blog: 2010

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Random Thoughts On... Justin Bieber vs. Jesse McCartney

As any Borders lover will know, the third level of Borders Chadstone has comfy armchairs scattered around the place. Now, any lover who has been there recently and has a good geographic sense as to where everything is positioned will remember that there are two particular armchairs near the children and young adults section (adjacent to the escalators). Two days ago at around 2pm you would have found me happily ensconced in one of these armchairs reading a racy Sara Douglass novel. However, my reverie of romantic fantasies was shot when I overheard the following conversation, triggered by the key word, "Twilight",spoken by a squealing tween:

Tween: "MOMMYYY!!! THE TWILIGHT SERIES IS ON SALE FOR ONLY $25.99!!!"

Tween's Mother: "Darling, please try to be quiet."

Tween: "But Mommy! It's the Twilight series and it's on sale!"

Tween's Mother: "Darling, $25.99 is a bit much for one dvd like that."

Tween: "Gosh! It's Twilight! I need to have it!!!"

Tween's Mother: "...No."

Tween: "GRAH!"

(Tween stalks away and I breathe a sigh of relief. The tween's mother continues to read until the next disturbance.)

Tween: "OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH. LOOK LOOK MOMMY. IT'S A JUSTIN BIEBER BOOK."

Me: 'Holy Flying Shite. They make stalkerish books about Justin Bieber now. What is this world coming to.'

Tween's Mother: "That's nice darling."

Tween: "Can I have it? Can I have it? Please mommy?"

Tween's Mother: "..."

Tween: "Please? It's a book! I'll be reading!"

Tween's Mother: sigh. "Fine."

Tween: "OH MOMMY I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I HAVE A JUSTINE BIEBER BOOK. EVERYONE'S GOING TO LOVE IT. I mean look at it! It even has a poster of Justin Bieber and quizzes..." She proceeds to unfold an A3 poster of Justin Bieber.

I feel that I can safely speak for a large majority of the Y generation when I say that Justin Bieber and Twilight are some of the more disreputable vices of the tween generation. Such things threaten the equilibrium of society and the sanity of every individual over the age of 17. But wait a sec. I suppose it wouldn't be entirely fair to cut in at this point in time and say, "When I was your age, I was never like that". Surely we must also have some sort of shortcoming that accompanied our growth pains.

So on we go to the timeline of our lives.

Perhaps the closest thing we had to Justin Bieber was Jesse McCartney. To be honest, I wasn't on that bandwagon but then again, I was the dork back in those late primary school-early high school days. And just as a refresher, here's some eye candy (if you can call it that):

But hey, at least he wasn't a pre-pubescent kid who had yet to go through the puberty blues. What you saw was what you got. Instead, you have Justin Bieber who has yet to go through the throes of puberty unscathed:

Yes tweens, that cute baby fat is likely to melt away. Sorry darlings.

And perhaps our equivalent to the Twilight series was the Saddle Club or even Harry Potter. I don't think it takes any genius to find the big differences between these series. Twilight has a sequined Edward Cullen, a constantly breathy Bella and a baby destined to be soul mate of an overly-muscular werewolf (lolita anyone?). Instead, Harry Potter has a serpentine Lord Voldemort, wands and broomsticks. The Saddle Club had horses, saddles, girls interested in horses and benign bitchiness. Yes, I might be biased but come on! Harry Potter and Saddle Club win in being healthy G-rated fads for kids who aren't yet teenagers. Furthermore, in our day, headlines like, "Girls ask me to bite them on the neck -Robert Pattinson" or "Young fan asks Twilight star Robert Pattinson to 'Bite Me'" never made the news. All we had was, "Thousands line up to see 'Wizarding World'".

It is quite worrisome to think that these tweens will grow up and enter into society as adults. There is no way in telling what their EQ will be like but rest assured, at least the more grounded Gen Y will be there to take all the managerial positions and rule the world with a grip as strong as Hagrid's.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Random Thoughts On... boyholism

One of the things that makes me wish I went to Melb Uni (mind you, I haven't checked out Monash's campus) is the availability of on-campus food. The many eateries on the Melb Uni campus wow-ed me because not only did it satisfy me gastronomically but also economically. I could spend less than $7 for a decent lunch! Instead, if I wandered to Adelaide Uni's Mayo, I could purchase a 'large' serving of either pasta or a curry (which, I should note, has made me frequent the second floor of the Law Building quite often) for $7.20. So like any (lazy) Uni student who didn't bring a packed lunch , I trundle over to Rundle St. (yes, I hope you noticed that sneaky usage of rhyme) for a comparatively expensive lunch fare.

It was on one of these food-foraging expeditions that I happened to be crossing North Terrace, the street that separates Adelaide Uni to the rest of the city. As a healthy girl, fresh from the gender-homogenous confines of an all-girls high school, I kept my eyes peeled for eye candy. Lo and behold! I wasn't disappointed. Coming towards me was a handsome guy with brunette hair fluffed in the cool winter wind. As my eyes appreciatively (but efficiently) violated this blissfully ignorant boy, I realised something that made my face look somewhat like this:

(thanks to Marshall Vandruff, whoever you may be)

I'm a boyholic.

I'm addicted to ravishing the silhouettes and selves of the various specimens of the opposite sex. You can be assured that if a member of the opposing gender were talking to me, in the first three seconds of the conversation I would have assessed

a) his legs

b) his nose

c) presence of body hair

d) height

e) everything else

I blame my habit on the lost years of high school when I should have exercised raging hormones to their fullest extent. But no matter, those years will never come again and I still possess this grave affliction.

The good news is that I have found a rather successful solution. Said solution comes in the form of being immersed in my Biology and Chemistry classes. In a week, I would have almost 9 hours of contact with Zelda-talking, ponytailed and scrawny guys. Because of them, my aesthetic appreciation of the other half of our race has dwindled and now, most males may be safe from my once avaricious and rapacious gaze.

(Please note, not all Science male students fit the aforementioned stereotype. In fact, there are quite a few blonde and Ralph Lauren model-esque guys in my lectures of whom, I should note, are not safe from my oggling)

And then they all lived happily ever after.

(or so they think)

Friday, April 2, 2010

Landmark: End Of Term 1

Two posts ago, my attitude towards Adelaide may have been one that was slightly condescending. After five weeks of uni and about a week of holidays, I'm proud to say that I have a reformed opinion of the place.

Adelaide's freaking awesome.

Writing that statement's a bit like waking up from a night of drunken revelries and telling someone you had an "awesome night" without ever elaborating on the sordid details. So I'll fill you in on all the stories that range from average to juicy to ignominious that finally led to the epic conclusion of Adelaide being a truly cool place.

Story #1: How I Came To Make Adelaidian Friends

As I mentioned in a previous post, I attended the debating dinner for AUDS members. It was there that I met my present friends: A., C.M., H. and J. During that dinner, I only talked to H. and C.M. H and I bonded over our stalker-ish activity of drooling over any attractive Law boys, of which there were many. Later on, I was introduced to E., the psychology student who is a vegan and also a closet Anime/Manga fan. After trading favourite Animes titles, E. showed A. (who was a not so closet fan of Anime/Manga after exclaiming loudly in the packed food court, "I LOVE ANIME TOO!") and me the secret store of everything to do with Anime and Manga that is conveniently located in a discrete location right next to Millers and EB Games. So really, the only ones who'll ever see us entering said store will be fellow fans and grandmas. A. has a tendency to bring randoms to lunch and one random was P. (of whom some of you may already know through my frequent exclamations) and A.P., who is nice but so annoying. Also, Y. the third year med student comes to lunch with S. who is gay and extremely attractive.

Story #2: The Night Of Solidification (Solidification of what?!)

One particular Saturday night, we went to dinner at a pub in North Adelaide. The dinner itself wasn't that interesting except for various faux pas on my behalf. Some of them include me saying, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" while vigorously chewing on a piece of steak so as to answer a question. Y. choked on his Lemon and Lime Bitters. The drinking session that occurred after the dinner was when things became eyebrow-raising. For instance, A.P. threw up and urged us at the top of his voice to "CALL THE AMBULANCE!" and "PHONE MY MUMMY. SHE'S A DOCTOR." Apparently, A.P. has no recollection of the night but we all now know that he's a mommy's boy. Also of interest was this rather peculiar photo that was taken while playing Kings. Have fun guessing who it is:

(In the background is H. who is in her pajamas)

It turns out that this was the night that friendships were solidified (as well as relationships considering how Y. and A. are now going out) whilst mopping up chicken breast puke. For the record, I am now in love with Pine-O-Clean and I swear by its hospital-grade antiseptic qualities.

Story #3: The Law library And Embarrassing Moments

While in the law library, I happened to sit across from an attractive older year student. I believe he was a halfie who was in possession of manly shoulders that filled out his polo magnificently. His hair was tussled carelessly like that of a Ralph Lauren model. His white teeth flashed periodically as he muttered a few sentences as he wrote them. Alas! My contemplations of his Adonis-like beauty would not last as my stomach grumbled audibly. His light brown eyes looked up and met mine and a look of puzzlement flitted across his features. My mind was blank and I dimly thought, "what if he thinks it was but a bout of flatulence?". And so I quickly reassured him that "it wasn't a fart! It was my stomach grumbling!"

FML. I hope I never see him again.

Story #4: At Bradford With A.

A. and I actually live at Bradford, a hostel, together. She's on the 1st floor and I'm on the 6th. Since there's an elevator, we frequently visit each other. On one particular occasion, A. found it necessary to visit me in order to use my laptop. However, I had no knowledge of her intention that day. Before she came to visit, I had stripped down to the underwear because for some strange stroke of logic, I decided that hanging around nearly naked was a more sensible decision than turning on the air-con. Thank you Adelaide weather. You befuddled my brain. In any case, A. knocked at the door, and wanting to not show off my taste in lingerie I scrambled to find an appropriate t-shirt and shorts. Lots of banging of closet doors occurred as I called out, "Err... Just hang on a minute. I'll be right there!". Having opened the door at last, I found A. collapsed on the floor shaking with laughter wheezing, "You don't need to hide your porn from me, KL! I'll find them anyway soon enough!".

Please note, I don't stash any porn of any form anywhere. That includes computers.

Conclusion

So after that display you may think that I'm having a great time in Adelaide. You'd be right, I am. But heck, I'll be sentimental and say that time and time again I can't help but think of all of you. I sometimes wonder what you'd be like when you're drunk. Or whether you'd like what I had for lunch. Or maybe, if you'd have another Dress Up As KL Day again. High school friends have an advantage over uni friends. There's almost six years worth of history right there with all the puberty dramas sandwiched in for good measure. 5 weeks with a bunch of uni kids doesn't replace those PLC days. Even if one of those uni kids is pretty attractive. ;)

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Random Thoughts On... clothing and delusions

I have to admit that one of the aspects of uni that I'm hating at 7:20 in the morning is not the morning classes, as one might expect, but the matter of clothing. In my sleepy state this morning, I pondered as to why I couldn't go to uni in my bath towel. No worries though, I woke up from my stupor. Although the thought of wearing just a simple towel to uni really does appeal to me. Besides the impracticality of the arrangement (i.e. said towel falling down and causing scene) the whole thing about wearing just one simple garment without the hassle of wearing clean, okay-looking clothes is just awesome. Just what happened to those days of wearing leaves and bear skins?

Don't these people look positively happy in their garb?

Coming back to the main topic, wearing clothes is a bother. Especially since most of the girls in my lectures seem to look really... fresh and good-looking? WHAT'S WITH THAT. Especially the law girls with their Gucci bags and gladiator sandals! It's like they want to make me look like a slob.

In any case, I like uni, I guess. I'm going to attempt to make friends tomorrow night at the debating dinner. Hopefully, fingers crossed, the future boyfriend will be there. He'll be sparkling under the soft tones of the lights with his splendid blonde hair carelessly ruffled and arms lightly tanned from playing sport. There he shall smile softly at me and we shall talk the night away, until he will offer to drive me home. Woot. Just had a thought, it's going to be pitch black when I get back. Maybe I should get a taxi home or something, if Mr. Boyfriend happens to have a cold/broke his leg and makes a no-show tomorrow night. Hmm. Something to ponder surely tonight.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Random Thoughts On... Adelaide

So after being in Adelaide for 6 full days, I thought it was high time to blog about the place. The following are pictures of the room:

(the room at an angle, and boy does it look kinda messy)

(the bed with ever faithful Elmo sleeping peacefully under the sleeping bag)

(and finally, last night's concoction that has a strange and uncanny resemblance to puke in a bowl. yum)

I would include pictures of the bathroom, but it scares me. Especially at night. The black toilet seat gives me the shivers. So in fact, I've taken to using the downstairs disabled bathroom which has a white toilet seat and is clean. I sense a trend appearing here. I seem to have a special connection with disabled toilets. Actually, when you think about it really closely, A LOT of people have connections with the disabled toilets. (*wink wink* hahaha. I know you got that reference.)

On the topic of toilets and bathrooms, sharing amenities with another person is an awkward business. For example, I have found myself in rather awkward situations where I have wanted to do my "stuff" whilst knowing the interconnecting door is not entirely soundproof. The solution? Loud music. I still don't know whether it works but it gives a heck of a lot of reassurance. Then again, I'm not sure whether she appreciates Lacrimosa blasting out in its full glory at 7:15 in the morning. Probably not.

I guess the inevitable question that might crop up is: How's Adelaide? What's it like compared to Melbourne?

I shall endeavour to answer both questions with simple comparisons:

Melbourne has trams with multiple tram lines.

Adelaide has trams with one tram line.

Melbourne has trams that either smell like sweat, BO or nothing.

Adelaide has trams that smell like poo.

Melbourne has China Town.

Adelaide has China Street.

Melbourne has Melbourne Cup.

Adelaide has Adelaide Cup.

You get the point. Adelaide's pretty much a mini-Melbourne. Although, bagging it as I did, I didn't give it fair justice. Adelaide does in fact have its perks.

For instance, the other day I wandered into China Street and saw an awesome sign that immediately made my stop in my tracks: "Any servings for only $6.50". That's right. It was, self-served servings of asian things, ONLY FOR $6.50. That meant, limitless amounts of fatty spring rolls, chow mein etc. FOR ONLY $6.50. Sorry Melbourne, Adelaide just wins out in terms of gastronomic needs. Good work Adelaide.

Just as a 'btw', I think I should add that my puke-in-a-bowl concoction was dangerous stuff. For the past two days that I've been consuming it, it's given me lots of trouble down under. I have now used the law building, the Barr Smith Library, the Napier Building and numerous other locations' restrooms. Actually, while using the Napier Building's restrooms, the lights turned off for some reason. It scared the bejeebus out of me and I started to worry since I couldn't find the flush button. However, the block mobile's awesome yellow light helped immensely.

I have a feeling it was the egg. Just my sneaky suspicion.

Look out for more updates coming your way. Ooh. I think I'll be coming from the 6th to the 8th! :D

Friday, January 29, 2010

Commentary Challenge #1

Wensi Cai's relatively short poem, "ICU (for now)", discusses the impermanence of life and a mortal's vulnerability to death. Written in second person, the poem focusses on a teenager who so unexpectedly, is brought to the precipice between life and death. The title of the poem holds a meaning two-fold. At first glance, the title reflects the setting of the poem: the Intensive Care Unit at a hospital. However, the title also represents the precarious balance between living and dying as it can be read as: "I see you (for now)". Although there is no set rhythm or rhyme, Cai uses other literary features such as alliteration and symbolism to form a work of wistful reflection.

The poem's first two lines open with the vivid image of the metaphorical "ribbon of life" in motion. The repetition of the sound 'tw' in the movements, "twirling and twisting", is relatively lyrical and firm, displaying the rapturousness and vivacity of life. This image is starkly contrasted with the next two lines as the very same ribbon is cut by The Knife. Even the motion of the ribbon is juxtaposed with the words, "flowing and falling" which uses a rather soft enunciation of the 'f' sound. At this point, the reader must question the significance of the capitalized "The Knife". We cannot fail to recognize how easily The Knife "sliced smooth" the ribbon, suggesting that even a seemingly secure and spirited life force can be brought to its end by unannounced instrument.

The next part of the poem takes on a rueful tone as the extinguishment of youth is contemplated on. Here, life and in particular a youthful life, is symbolized by a "freshly grown" flower. The word "just" emphasizes the short life of the newly-formed entity. Like how leisurely and carelessly we may bend down to pluck the head of flowers, a sprightly life may be put out. This life, so unknowingly precious like "shiny dark gems", will become worthless, fit for only wasteland. The speaker of the poem seems to be aware of her loss as the relatively alien emotions of pain and fear overcome her. Her world that was so free and expanse has now been confined to a single place: her hospital bed. Perhaps, like the speaker of the poem, we will only be aware of how cherished our own existence is when we are on the brink of losing it.

The ending lines of the poem leave us at the bedside of the teenager. The uncertainty of her fate is perceptible by the question, "how much time is there left?" The teenager has almost no control over her being with machines controlling her functions. This is only emphasized by the lone sounds of "beep beep!". The teenager can only wait and hope.

Cai has produced a poem that is not only a reminder of the brittleness of a seemingly invincible youthful life but also an elegy of the loss of the life. Although it may be inevitable for youth and life to be taken away from us, we should enjoy both to the fullest.

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I thought I'd never do it... but I did. Good god, I hope I captured the right things Wensi. :/

Ahem. SL English through and through. :D

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Random Thoughts On... mangos and oranges.

So I had a run this morning. I thought I was pretty well geared up with my high-impact sports bra and running shorts. I tied up my hair and put a headband on so that nothing could stop me. For the first few kms, nothing did. That is, until I got onto Toorak Rd.

Now, Toorak Rd. has a lovely set of commercial settings like the BMW dealer, some kitchen display place and a whole bunch of cafes and furniture shops. The main point is that these places have nice reflective windows. Being the vain creature that I am, I like to check out my legs and overall being to see how I fare. So I did, and boy did I get a sight.

Let me put it out on public display: there is NOTHING good about having big mangos. Some particular people might beg to differ (for reasons I have no idea about) so for the sake of fairness, let's do a list of pros and cons.

Pros For A Set Of Yummy Mangos:

They apparently "look good" and might draw the attention of the opposite sex. (Is this really a good thing anyway?!)
No need for the kiwi augmentation.
Extra boost in self-esteem in the form of more mammary gland fat??? (Not quite sure about this I did a quick google and some women claim that.)
Bikinis look good. :)

Count: 4

Cons For A Set Of Yummy Mangos:

The need for extra support when doing strenuous activities such as sport. I mean otherwise they just flop around uncomfortably, making it look like you're juggling a pair of fruit.
Dresses that are normally supposed to sit at a decent and respectable height get hitched up an extra two centimeters, causing it to NOT be decent and respectable. (Cotton On dresses are a perfect example of this.)
Some tops might be extra-tight.
The phenomenon of being able to see all of you feet when you look down just does not apply with a prominent chest.
Bikini tops might move around (a lot) after frolicking in the waves and therefore might cause embarrassing scene.
May attract unwanted attention.

Count: 6

It's obvious. The cons for having a prominent chest just far outweighs the pros. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not about to downsize my mangos or anything. I still have to get that sideburn removal before then. :D

The point is, if you have a small set of kiwis be happy! One person at least envies you for them, not the other way around (My jealousy may have manifested over the years in interesting ways as some of you might know.). If you are a fellow person with a decent size of mangos, at least you can be happy that lots of people pay loads of dough to have what you so naturally possess.

Here ends the words of your wise mango guru.