I miss blogging. Very much.
Not for the inherent narcissism (although admittedly the previous Oasis-related posts was bragging rights well earned. Yet there are fewer Oasis fans here than I thought. Nobody batted an eye-lid to my real cool Official Oasis T-shirt pun. Cheh!)
Anyway. Writing for pleasure is a luxury and a wanton act of rebellion.
Having to endure hard work to still be in work is a small sacrifice at a time when not having to worry about my job is something to be envied.
So blogging, when I still have a kabillion things to do is smack in the face of good sense because guess who will need to stay up again tonight to draft daft statutory declarations? *yawn*
Nevertheless, it’s been a very busy weekend that involved oh, pretty interesting things which included a trip to Malacca, coconut shakes, nyonya food, kicking a fuss with the hotel management because they could not get my astro working and a pretty shiny rock.
Somewhat unexpected, the weekend also saw a renewed interest in faith and religious philosophy. Which is interesting on its own because I was on the path of the darkside. Or truth. Depending on which side of the coin you flip I suppose. At the end of the day we all die. Sometimes that is easy to forget.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Oasis - Singapore Indoor Stadium
As promised.... pictures!
Best-est pre-birthday present to myself EVER!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Boo!
Sooo... the witch is back! I have been dying to spill the beans on so many things yet I think I have well established that I am very overworked and I foster very detailed fantasies on how to throw in my resignation. Still, I need to eat and so does my rabbit.. so I am still allowing myself to be exploited in the name of capitalism.
Nevertheless the cauldron has been bubbling, mind you.
So where do I begin? Maybe from the most exciting.
On the 5th of April, I flew down to Singapore with some like minded people and actually consented to stay in a budget hotel in Geylang of all places for the pure reason that it was one km from the Singapore Indoor Stadium. Going back to Singapore was certainly NOT easy. I couldn't really afford the time and I totally busted the bank but I knew since forever that I'd do anything to watch Oasis live, and so I did.
Besides paying the small price of SDG101 per ticket, having to camp out, brave hordes of very enthusiastic fans to be right in front of the stage, sacrifice breathing fresh air and having my feet trodded on the entire night - I had the most amazing time!
here is the setlist:
Fuckin' in the Bushes
Rock'n'Roll Star
Lyla
The Shock of the Lightning
Cigarettes & Alcohol
The Meaning of Soul
To Be Where There's Life
Waiting for the Rapture
The Masterplan
Songbird
Slide Away
Morning Glory
Ain't Got Nothin'
The Importance of Being Idle
I'm Outta Time
Wonderwall
Supersonic
Don't Look Back in Anger
Falling Down
Champagne Supernova
I Am The Walrus
I never though that I would catch them live and the reality of my being there, in its full glory and magnitude, decended only during Don't Look Back in Anger where I shamlessly wept, heh.
It was the culmination of living the moment, and being flooded with memories that their songs bring home. Silly to be so emotional but you don't know how long I have followed the band and their songs have hallmarked so many of the highest and lowest points of my life, its freaky.
Pictures soon!
Nevertheless the cauldron has been bubbling, mind you.
So where do I begin? Maybe from the most exciting.
On the 5th of April, I flew down to Singapore with some like minded people and actually consented to stay in a budget hotel in Geylang of all places for the pure reason that it was one km from the Singapore Indoor Stadium. Going back to Singapore was certainly NOT easy. I couldn't really afford the time and I totally busted the bank but I knew since forever that I'd do anything to watch Oasis live, and so I did.
Besides paying the small price of SDG101 per ticket, having to camp out, brave hordes of very enthusiastic fans to be right in front of the stage, sacrifice breathing fresh air and having my feet trodded on the entire night - I had the most amazing time!
here is the setlist:
Fuckin' in the Bushes
Rock'n'Roll Star
Lyla
The Shock of the Lightning
Cigarettes & Alcohol
The Meaning of Soul
To Be Where There's Life
Waiting for the Rapture
The Masterplan
Songbird
Slide Away
Morning Glory
Ain't Got Nothin'
The Importance of Being Idle
I'm Outta Time
Wonderwall
Supersonic
Don't Look Back in Anger
Falling Down
Champagne Supernova
I Am The Walrus
I never though that I would catch them live and the reality of my being there, in its full glory and magnitude, decended only during Don't Look Back in Anger where I shamlessly wept, heh.
It was the culmination of living the moment, and being flooded with memories that their songs bring home. Silly to be so emotional but you don't know how long I have followed the band and their songs have hallmarked so many of the highest and lowest points of my life, its freaky.
Pictures soon!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Its been a long while folks. It been a harrowing few weeks with lots of thrills, spills and chills. I am the poster girl for all research that says that stress breaks down the body and leaves one as endearing as an alligator on caffeine withdrawal.
Just a short note to say that I am alive and still snapping at everybody.
Just a short note to say that I am alive and still snapping at everybody.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
And speaking of Rohingya
Go feed your mind with something worth knowing. I expect it to be a good introduction to the refuge crisis. The CM Annex is nice this time of year.
For previews: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phjKN_Cu0I0
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Bump, bump, BUMP!
I had an "I'm Okay" moment today. Heh.
As I was entering a packed lift at the office, nobody held the door open, so the the doors came crashing against me, caused me to fall down and my shriek shocked everybody.
And in a flash, this picture popped into my head. And I went "I'm okay". Not that anybody asked though.
I wanted to laugh but my arm hurt. Funny la in a tragic way.
p.s. Plaza IBM during lunch time is a bitch.
As I was entering a packed lift at the office, nobody held the door open, so the the doors came crashing against me, caused me to fall down and my shriek shocked everybody.
And in a flash, this picture popped into my head. And I went "I'm okay". Not that anybody asked though.
I wanted to laugh but my arm hurt. Funny la in a tragic way.
p.s. Plaza IBM during lunch time is a bitch.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Bedtime stories
Cyberspace is littered with a multitude of blogs devoted to the singular purpose of telling stories - unlimited pages that chronicle the tragedies and triumphs of the extraordinary lives of ordinary people. Or should it be the other way around.
This blog does not profess to be any different.
Storytellers every one of us, we regale readers with tales that are important to us, that defines us and that assures us of our existence under the skies of our individual universe.
We publish to an audience because we matter and the subjects of our litany – they matter. We harbour the hope that somebody finds us even remotely interesting. Being forgotten is a fate worse than death. Or so I am told.
From cave drawings to sculpted monuments – we are the only species that has an intrinsic need to live a life beyond ourselves, to need to leave a legacy. Something as eternal to the human spirit as our wondrous sense of curiosity. Qualities that set the immortal cycle - where storyteller will turn to the reader who will in turn, weave stories of her own.
Some recite the story of their lives through their music and some in art. We bloggers, we seek transitory glory in the very impermanent realm of cyberspace, with our finely wrought words and pictures. And not necessarily sequenced between Google ads and Nuffnang banners.
In moments of despair I have often wondered if there is any purpose to this existence - whether I would have a story left to tell from the routine mediocrity that characterizes my days from sun up to bedtime. Mine and a million other people’s.
Yet we go on, constructing our narratives with twists and plots and surprises that mark our life’s journeys as we do our utmost to arrive at happy endings. We may not be Hemmingway, but you and I, we are still raconteurs – world class, honest and with joys, heartbreaks and other stories to tell.
This blog does not profess to be any different.
Storytellers every one of us, we regale readers with tales that are important to us, that defines us and that assures us of our existence under the skies of our individual universe.
We publish to an audience because we matter and the subjects of our litany – they matter. We harbour the hope that somebody finds us even remotely interesting. Being forgotten is a fate worse than death. Or so I am told.
From cave drawings to sculpted monuments – we are the only species that has an intrinsic need to live a life beyond ourselves, to need to leave a legacy. Something as eternal to the human spirit as our wondrous sense of curiosity. Qualities that set the immortal cycle - where storyteller will turn to the reader who will in turn, weave stories of her own.
Some recite the story of their lives through their music and some in art. We bloggers, we seek transitory glory in the very impermanent realm of cyberspace, with our finely wrought words and pictures. And not necessarily sequenced between Google ads and Nuffnang banners.
In moments of despair I have often wondered if there is any purpose to this existence - whether I would have a story left to tell from the routine mediocrity that characterizes my days from sun up to bedtime. Mine and a million other people’s.
Yet we go on, constructing our narratives with twists and plots and surprises that mark our life’s journeys as we do our utmost to arrive at happy endings. We may not be Hemmingway, but you and I, we are still raconteurs – world class, honest and with joys, heartbreaks and other stories to tell.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)