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Saturday, January 21, 2006
++ fern
KOKY. I'm updating this for you. HAPPY 21st. LOve u loads and loads too bad we couldnt get u on the phone today - to hear me and nolly sing a birthday song to u But have a great one, love u lotsxx
++ fern Friday, December 16, 2005
  Amsterdam   the barrrel   house party   house party  london chinatown  nick's birthday present  post party in the quad - joint bday party w nick
++ fern
so many things happened in the past month. How do i even begin. lets start from today. its over!!! haha, know i really shouldnt be feeling this way. guiltily, I admit, its great to be out of the office. especially when you;ve just spent the last week or two doing literally nothing, but being an encumberance. Although i have to admit it was cool while it lasted. Of the week, spent almost 2 full days in court, watched a senior counsel get absoltuely beasted by the judge - and still u tell me in judicial management it never gets personal. Had an amzing lunch in harry Potter Hall of Lincoln's Inn with a long table full of wisecracking public school, oxbridge, poshnoshy white guys, had tea and biscuits in the office of the head chambers in a room with a real fireplace, and where everyone uses fine bone china teacups AND saucers. Attempted to sound smart when I hadn;t a clue what was going in the case discussion. Worst of all, having to make a gazillion minutes of small talk about Christmas - coz I couldnt very well t hink of any thing else vaguely that public school eduicated English guys would be interested in. Hah, at the end of it they must have thought I wa one crzy guirl obsessed with Christmas. yes, a bit insane. having drunk copious amounts of tea and spent hours amusing myself reading cases racking my brain and trying to sound smart, well, its OVER. having said that, its with mroe than a twinge of sadness that I must say I did enjoy it. But the whole exclusivity thing people murmur about outside chambers, sad to say, I feel is true. Much as I find court work immensely intersting, and defintiely stimulating, i consign myself to the sad reality that maybe I just dont have the intellectual capacity, the eloquence, the skin color, or maybe jsut the confidence to attempt trying for it. I am a sucker - I hate failing, and this time the odds just seem way too improbable. If only, my learned friend. In the week, memories of Amsterdam have steadily been consigned to the dark recesses of my mind. But yes, after liberation, and alot of christmas cheer, it wonderful to look at pictures and reminsce. got an email from a dear old firend couple of days ago, saying just how fun it was. Yes, it was, I wont even bother putting it in words. But sometimes, more than ever, its at Christmas, and when the air is thick with the yuletide cheer that you really realise what a great time you are having and what great friends you have. WooT wooT!!! Last two weeks of school was jsut plain insane to put it mildy. There was the barrel, which somehow seemed alot more fun last year than it did this year. maybe its just because I havent actually been involving myself that much in the whole rugby scene this year - couple of newbies that I dont really know - everyone not really hanging out together ,much, more work and fewer walkabout nights. I even missed the infamous barrel run where they ran down to kings along the strand and supposedly casused more tha n $30,000 pounds of criminal damage and punched a teacher. I wish I'd cut out the Guardian report on that. Birthday was on the 28th, thanks so much for everyone who made it extra special. The girls who came down to London the week after to celebrate mine and nolly's. you guys are the best girlfriends in the world. I know I;m just really really busy, never go on msn, always somewhere running all over the place. But it just means so much that u guys are always there to just be there. I wouldn't trade you all for anyting in the world. Love u all loads and loads..xxx Anyway, jo and koky are coming down this weekend, and nolly's coming back on sat evening. Sunday morning's going to be a riot before I fly home in the afternoon..cant wait!!! arghhh.. now thinking of all the missed deadlines I set for myself just makes me sick. Off to get some fooood and do soemting about it !!
++ fern Wednesday, November 23, 2005
how do you tell people NO that its sub zero outside and you just dont feel like going out, that you've got a 10 am class and your place is alot nearer to school than just about anyone else's is that the thought of havning to get out early and take the bus to school for another $3.60 is horrible that all you want to have is time alone, or away from the pretentiousness, the trying how do you tell yourself NO that you should stop daydreaming of chocolate muffins and raspberry sauce that you should focus on work instead of whiling the day away that you should stop blogsurfing and get a hold on your time that you need to stop wasting time and not screw up your mock exam how do you tell someone NO but that you just want someone who truly loves you
++ fern Monday, November 14, 2005
just got back from stansted couple of hours ago. Portugal was gorgeous, not everything i imagined it to be, but it came relatively close. The food, the people, the city, the bustle, the tranquility, the modern facade juxtaposed with the cobbled streets and smelly dried cod. Tiny kids with sparkling eyes, juggling soccer balls by the quayside in the sunset. portuguese eggtarts tthat actually do exist - and taste even more amazing than what I imagined they would. Porto has to be the city with the most pastry shops in the world. More than even vienna or singapore. Their appetite for custard and flaky puff pastry is literally stomach ache inducing. NOT THAT IM COMPLAINING. The company was good too, but we all had things we were pondering on, chewing thoughts just didnt seem to cut it for very much more than superfluous exchange, that skimmed the surface of the depth of churning emotion beneath. but it was all good fun, Im grateful for the chance to just let loose. Back to the issue of sterotypes. People who know, I am a sucker for dark hair and sparkly eyes. Met someone today, who really freaked the heck out of me, and pissed the shit out of me at the same time. AND he had dark hair and sparkly eyes, and was well, hot in every convetional sense of the word. Well, I was jogging it home, after running aroundlincoln's inns fields and up southampton row, when I moved past this guy in a suit. didnt thikn much of it, but I remember him, cuz did actually look at him. Continued walking home, when I was 10 steps from the gate, heard this random voice stop me from behind. so it was that guy, turns out he's french morrocan, in london for a business trip - for the global money markets - and wanted me to "have a cuppa, a conversation" or "dinner with him". Right. Then, he asks, "How old are you". i would have turned to run, but for the fact that i was 10 steps from the door and didnt want him to know where we lived. "20", .."oh.. that;s old.. thought u were much younger".. well, so turns out mr hot and dashing is actually a perv looking for young underaged girls who walk around russell square at 8 in the evening to "have an invitation" or "rest with him". right. did someone say anything about dark haired half french guys being sleazy? (or being incredibly smooth, hairy, loud, obnoxious, insensitive, dashing for that matter)
++ fern
just got back from stansted couple of hours ago. Portugal was gorgeous, not everything i imagined it to be, but it came relatively close. The food, the people, the city, the bustle, the tranquility, the modern facade juxtaposed with the cobbled streets and smelly dried cod. Tiny kids with sparkling eyes, juggling soccer balls by the quayside in the sunset. portuguese eggtarts tthat actually do exist - and taste even more amazing than what I imagined they would. Porto has to be the city with the most pastry shops in the world. More than even vienna or singapore. Their appetite for custard and flaky puff pastry is literally stomach ache inducing. NOT THAT IM COMPLAINING. The company was good too, but we all had things we were pondering on, chewing thoughts just didnt seem to cut it for very much more than superfluous exchange, that skimmed the surface of the depth of churning emotion beneath. but it was all good fun, Im grateful for the chance to just let loose. Back to the issue of sterotypes. People who know, I am a sucker for dark hair and sparkly eyes. Met someone today, who really freaked the heck out of me, and pissed the shit out of me at the same time. AND he had dark hair and sparkly eyes, and was well, hot in every convetional sense of the word. Well, I was jogging it home, after running aroundlincoln's inns fields and up southampton row, when I moved past this guy in a suit. didnt thikn much of it, but I remember him, cuz did actually look at him. Continued walking home, when I was 10 steps from the gate, heard this random voice stop me from behind. so it was that guy, turns out he's french morrocan, in london for a business trip - for the global money markets - and wanted me to "have a cuppa, a conversation" or "dinner with him". Right. Then, he asks, "How old are you". i would have turned to run, but for the fact that i was 10 steps from the door and didnt want him to know where we lived. "20", .."oh.. that;s old.. thought u were much younger".. well, so turns out mr hot and dashing is actually a perv looking for young underaged girls who walk around russell square at 8 in the evening to "have an invitation" or "rest with him". right. did someone say anything about dark haired half french guys being sleazy? (or being incredibly smooth, hairy, loud, obnoxious, insensitive, dashing for that matter)
++ fern
just got back from stansted couple of hours ago. Portugal was gorgeous, not everything i imagined it to be, but it came relatively close. The food, the people, the city, the bustle, the tranquility, the modern facade juxtaposed with the cobbled streets and smelly dried cod. Tiny kids with sparkling eyes, juggling soccer balls by the quayside in the sunset. portuguese eggtarts tthat actually do exist - and taste even more amazing than what I imagined they would. Porto has to be the city with the most pastry shops in the world. More than even vienna or singapore. Their appetite for custard and flaky puff pastry is literally stomach ache inducing. NOT THAT IM COMPLAINING. The company was good too, but we all had things we were pondering on, chewing thoughts just didnt seem to cut it for very much more than superfluous exchange, that skimmed the surface of the depth of churning emotion beneath. but it was all good fun, Im grateful for the chance to just let loose. Back to the issue of sterotypes. People who know, I am a sucker for dark hair and sparkly eyes. Met someone today, who really freaked the heck out of me, and pissed the shit out of me at the same time. AND he had dark hair and sparkly eyes, and was well, hot in every convetional sense of the word. Well, I was jogging it home, after running aroundlincoln's inns fields and up southampton row, when I moved past this guy in a suit. didnt thikn much of it, but I remember him, cuz did actually look at him. Continued walking home, when I was 10 steps from the gate, heard this random voice stop me from behind. so it was that guy, turns out he's french morrocan, in london for a business trip - for the global money markets - and wanted me to "have a cuppa, a conversation" or "dinner with him". Right. Then, he asks, "How old are you". i would have turned to run, but for the fact that i was 10 steps from the door and didnt want him to know where we lived. "20", .."oh.. that;s old.. thought u were much younger".. well, so turns out mr hot and dashing is actually a perv looking for young underaged girls who walk around russell square at 8 in the evening to "have an invitation" or "rest with him". right. did someone say anything about dark haired half french guys being sleazy? (or being incredibly smooth, hairy, loud, obnoxious, insensitive, dashing for that matter)
++ fern
just got back from stansted couple of hours ago. Portugal was gorgeous, not everything i imagined it to be, but it came relatively close. The food, the people, the city, the bustle, the tranquility, the modern facade juxtaposed with the cobbled streets and smelly dried cod. Tiny kids with sparkling eyes, juggling soccer balls by the quayside in the sunset. portuguese eggtarts tthat actually do exist - and taste even more amazing than what I imagined they would. Porto has to be the city with the most pastry shops in the world. More than even vienna or singapore. Their appetite for custard and flaky puff pastry is literally stomach ache inducing. NOT THAT IM COMPLAINING. The company was good too, but we all had things we were pondering on, chewing thoughts just didnt seem to cut it for very much more than superfluous exchange, that skimmed the surface of the depth of churning emotion beneath. but it was all good fun, Im grateful for the chance to just let loose. Back to the issue of sterotypes. People who know, I am a sucker for dark hair and sparkly eyes. Met someone today, who really freaked the heck out of me, and pissed the shit out of me at the same time. AND he had dark hair and sparkly eyes, and was well, hot in every convetional sense of the word. Well, I was jogging it home, after running aroundlincoln's inns fields and up southampton row, when I moved past this guy in a suit. didnt thikn much of it, but I remember him, cuz did actually look at him. Continued walking home, when I was 10 steps from the gate, heard this random voice stop me from behind. so it was that guy, turns out he's french morrocan, in london for a business trip - for the global money markets - and wanted me to "have a cuppa, a conversation" or "dinner with him". Right. Then, he asks, "How old are you". i would have turned to run, but for the fact that i was 10 steps from the door and didnt want him to know where we lived. "20", .."oh.. that;s old.. thought u were much younger".. well, so turns out mr hot and dashing is actually a perv looking for young underaged girls who walk around russell square at 8 in the evening to "have an invitation" or "rest with him". right. did someone say anything about dark haired half french guys being sleazy? (or being incredibly smooth, hairy, loud, obnoxious, insensitive, dashing for that matter)
++ fern Wednesday, November 09, 2005
i had a discussion with a friend today, which really made me think what is singaporeanism. he professes a love for the food, an admiration for the results we get, but he despises the culture. I profess, Ive never had someone put that so succintly and bluntly in my face before. He called the singapore government a bloody dictatorship, about how he hated the way singaproeans are all geeks. meaning, job focused, greedy, individualistic, cheap - he called it, concerned with the tiniest nitty gritty things, things that involve money. Thats what pissed him off he said. How we pick on every scrap or ounce of goodness anyone throws but are selfish unro ourselves. All in all, we get good grades, but so what? Its all the nubmer crunching that we do that gets it, but he claims not to see any singaorean ceos? its the realtionships and communicaton skills that matter, no matter how competitive or self centred individualist we are. All in all, it results in a socitery full of selfish, greedy geeks, job centred and self centred. We dont care about the people around us, just about how to rip off or extract the best benefit from everyone else who isnt singaporean. How we spend hours on the end endlessly bitching about people and things, politics but never get anything done about it. How inactivity has characterised the society that it becomes secular and selfish. I took offence - why would your culture be superior just because you appear to care more about other things other than wokring your ass off to pay back your study loan. is it cos you sont have a study loan to pay off and money comes easily to you? Is that y? I knew he would deny it, and he did - ppl here they arent rich, they pay for their own things, live therilives simply but happy. it is the poor whoa re more willing to share, cuz the realise the meaning of being without and want more ppl to partake in their situation of having. Instead, its the rich who are more greedy and despite seeing their walth gorw want even more, and more and more... it never ends does it - but really, I didnt knwwhat to say. Singaporeans are used to the govt telling us whats good for us, what we should do to look beyond society, and ow we are the most global, forward looking metroplitan city in the world? but are we? In a way, he was being insular and refused to see where I was coming from, and yea I could say loads of things in the defence of singaore - how its this focusedness that got ppl where they are, that being apoltical means more meaningful things like helping the community are at hand, and of course he was an ass just not to realise that culture and morality in itsslf are subjective concepts and it would be unfair to judge one as being supeior to another jsut becasus subjectively to him- it appeared like a sucky way of life. but really, people think that of singaporeans from having what contact they have with people here - even if there are valid reasons for acting the way we do - that we obviously understand and empathise with - why it is that it appears so completely abherrent to them? tell me
++ fern Tuesday, November 08, 2005
you know you've become a gook when you're at home on guy fawkes night. granted, i wasnt at home. I was at nick's place trying to piece the paragarphs of my essay together.. with Dick, Fiona and Ed, and the 20 ton refrigerated supertransported and rotten strawberries that became the subject of a $18,000 law suit..yea you get the idea. well, I was sitting at john's com squinting at the screen in the dark - how nice can i get, that guy just got back from the airport and needed his 100 winks, when sudenly the whole window in front of you just lights up. And the sky turns a million shades of shiny sparks that explode and twinkle and smile before fading away. in the distance, some really rich guy's putting off his million dollar fire works the kind that has two shells- the white explodes first, then the red inside the white to gie a starburst of showers with comet tails, dragonheads, exploding balls whatever you call them. Bonfires going on all over the country to celebrate the wonderful misdeeds of some clueless chap who tried to blow up the british parliament 100 years ago. what a sadistic sense of humour these brits have. evryone fromthe kids in the nxt estate to that loaded guy right by the london eye( which incidentally canbe seen from john's window) is setting off fireworks, or firecrackles or firecackles for the really cheap ass ones. sigh, then i think of the times my experience with fireworks is sadly limited to the sparklers at mooncake fest in sept. can u imagine if we had fireworks to set off at home? think my dad would have a fit about the explosive ruining the granite floors in the courtyard. we're having a bonfire party at berrylands tomorrow- ha proves im not such a beeper anymore. today we were having a discussion through email about the barrel. yes thorugh email. apparently rugby chavs dont really have much better things to do then sit by theri facebook pages and lse accounts everyday, but yes, coming from a rugby girl. for the uninitiated, the barrel is an annual AU affairs on the second last fridya of michaelmas term, where the AU gives itself blanket approval for one day of lesson skipping, boozing, fining - pure hedonistic fun - or wickedness ddepending on how you look at it. we've got all the sports teams dress up according to their team's theme of the year, and turn up in the school bar at 11am for the first round of drinking. Drink tags cost 5 pounds per wrist, and are redeemable thorughout the day until 7 at the underground for an unlimited supply of fosters snakebite, housepours.. you name the works? think its a good deal? whats even better is if you get fined. what this is is tht your captain gets to haul ppl up for various misendeavours throughout the year up on stage, where they spin the wheeeeeeeeeeeeel , depending on where it stops, its a pull, 2 pulls, a pint , 3 pints,.. so you actually get even more free drinks - morethan you can even imagine. by 2 pm, the floor is a sea of red flooded with snakebite and there a designated puke bin right next to the stage. ha wicked the fun doesnt stop there, there's ran dom karaoke throughout the day, an amplification of wednesday nights and walkabouts by about 100 times, and around 4 the stripping starts. barrel tradition has it that a rugby frist team fresher steps pissed and is stripped down to his balls and thrown into the street, whereupon he has tpo run thorugh the school - thorugh lts, throug the library, with luck this year even through kings, with the rest of the AU bunch chasing after him in fancy dress, or undress, its a show stopping sight, the whole school turns out to line houghton street for the run, and it almost always makes the beaver - almost- within the bounds of decency eh? turns out this year, we're thinking something ************. Not telling what we're coming in. Wait and see
++ fern Saturday, November 05, 2005
The Hare and Tortoise is probably the best thing that happened to Russeel Square in a long time - and one of the best things thats happened to me all week! I wont even start to go on about the food. Its tucked at the corner of a derelict buidling all covered in scafolding, with the tiles falling off, the roof leaking ina hundred places - basically the place you would want to walk on the other side of the road of when coming home from King's Cross or Euston at 3 am in the morning. But nolly and addie brought me there today, and if you manae to wade through the pile of broken bricks piled outside, you come upon this really classy cafe like joint with cosy spotlights, shiny tables, zen-ish chairs and steaming bowls of noodles and rice piled high with slabs of meat and egg floating out of the kitchen. Welcome to the chinese joint - that is arguably one of London's best kept secrets and possibly one of the best affordable chinese restaurants outside of chinatown. And the best part? its 5 mins from Queens square! and 27 old gloucester street. had for a really reasonalbe 4.50 a mountain of rice althered with "succulent white cod fillets cooke din black bean sauce with onions, garlic red and green bell peppers" On a day when the sky if overcast and hints of adrizzle accost you on the way there - you a re in gourmet paradise. classic marriot hotel sichuan style cooking condensed into a rice dish and served in an artistic bowl for a fraction of the price Hakkasan is charging. There's loads more inventive dishes. Nolly had the satay beef friend noodle - which i imagine is erally good but i havent had the chance to sample. Not all the dishes look as restaurant standrad as the rest, but these on the other hand have that home cooked flavour- a definite delight after all that chinatown artificiality. I'm going out later again. For dinenr at Jon's and the rest o his warm warm house. I think the fact of being here just means going out alot doesnt it? A good friend said soemthing to me todya that really made me think. What is the
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