I think the most interesting thing that happened to me in the past two-and-a-half weeks is that I basically got boob flashed.

happened last wednesday when I was on my weekly jog. I noticed a lady standing beside a car as I went past; I made my halfway-mark u-turn not long after that and was going to pass by her again when she stopped me with a pitiful look and outstretched hands. she asked if I lived nearby – I thought she needed directions, so I said I lived up the road (this is true – just that it was actually a 10-minute run up the road) and could I help you with getting somewhere?  then in a long spiel that I guessed was rehearsed, she talked about how she hadn’t had food in a few days, and her children as well, and some other unfortunate things that I couldn’t catch, and she just needed to come in for a little bit, and she had no milk to give her baby, and then without a flinch she pulled down the left side of her top and squeezed the breast to prove the point. finally she finished and I said, I’m sorry, but I don’t live that nearby. her expression changed completely, and she said, you said you lived just up the road!, and then stalked away (she had pulled her top back up by this time of course).

I wasn’t quite sure whether to feel shocked or amused or sobered or sorry for/to her after that.

in other news, school is okay.

I am trying to make this term an approach to the literature I’ve always wanted to read but never did. so far I’ve finished Hemingway’s A Farewell To Arms (a revelation, if I may be pretentious enough to say so), Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse (lovely writing in some bits, but generally a bit too much for my taste) and I’m halfway through Fitzgerald’s short stories (some amazing writing a la Gatsby in there). Heart of Darkness and Dubliners are sitting on my bedside table waiting. any other recommendations?

oh, 新年快乐, 恭喜发财, 万事如意, 年年有余, 步步高升, 身体健康, 考好成绩, 红包多多, etc!

the worst part about coming back home is having to leave again. more specifically, the feeling of having to leave. I’ll be perfectly fine (I suppose) once I get back to london and have to fend for myself again, but this pre-departure melancholy is just not very enjoyable.

it’s been a good 3 weeks, of course. it’s a pity I spent a fair bit of my first week back almost missing london. now that seems like a long, long time ago.

till June then.

so this is the new year (and I don’t feel any different?)

listening to Death Cab’s “The New Year” (source for this post’s title) every Jan 1 is becoming a sort of yearly ritual.

as is re-reading all my blog posts from the previous year, which, for the first time in quite a few years, I managed to do immediately after midnight.

two things sprang to my mind after typing the previous sentence. the first, rather less relevant one relates to Communication, Psychology, Experience. as part of my research for the essay I wrote for that module I read about therapeutics, which is that culture of psychological self-help that pervades our modern existences in neoliberal societies (N.B. I sound like I know more than I really do here and in the bit that follows). forms of writing, especially diaristic practices e.g. blogging, can be seen as a form of confession, in which the writer ‘writes’ himself as a subject to be known and understood by himself and other readers. such practices contribute to forming an identity inextricably linked with psychological concepts: growth, emotional maturity, etc.

ok, /end academic pretensions. nonetheless, I’ve done some really interesting theory stuff this year, especially with Cultural Studies in the Spring and both the psychology- and sociology-related courses in the Autumn. I don’t think I can say such things with any real certainty, but I would venture that my perspectives have widened. it is a real blessing to be able to learn all this stuff  - it’s been good enough that postgrad studies seems like a possible option in the future. photography and script & prose (particularly people’s very gratifying comments) have been great too, and I hope practice continues to surprise and prove fruitful even if it gets frustrating.

the second thing related to re-reading all my 2011 blog posts is the fact that I read them immediately after midnight. new year’s eve this time was a very small affair, and the people who came didn’t stay for the countdown as they had other plans. I was in the shower at the stroke of midnight actually, and it felt a little strange – sad? – to come out and see the fireworks and the flares from the ships, but the house all silent and my family already asleep. I admit I still feel a little pathetic about being removed from all the celebration, being alone. can’t be helped I suppose. since turning 21, the sense of people having other commitments and other people to be with has only got stronger. to be honest, I haven’t come to terms with that yet. I have a feeling I won’t till I get myself a girlfriend, if that ever happens (and even if it does…). in a way it makes me feel more determined to settle into myself. still, I’m very glad for my circle of friends, you all know who you are.

it’s been an eye-opening year in other ways. visited Belgium, Turkey, Israel, Paris, Venice, Rome, Munich, Copenhagen, Oxford, Bath, Windsor, Stratford-upon-Avon, etc… pretty amazing thinking back on it now. had a great holiday with great company in Bintan. voted for the first time in my life and laid a foundation for my view of politics (?). found and moved into a house (again, with great company). became an uncle. played far too many games of Saboteur. had the best summer of my life, probably.

there’s a lot to be grateful for. I realise that more and more every year. so here’s to 2012.

that time of year again.

life is good. the people are still around, the food is comforting as ever and the weather has been generally kind.

christmas party (or more like eating-saboteur-gossip meetup) yesterday at debbie’s house. this thing has become a yearly ritual – I can’t imagine christmas without it. can’t wait for the boys and girls one coming up.

trust me, of course, to find a sense of melancholy in all this. I think it may have something to do with how I’ve recently discovered Angus and Julia Stone. or that constant monsoon wind in the house.

what I really need is a walk along the beach.

so it did start snowing when I left london on friday. it was just flurries that came down like rain though, nothing at all like last year. so I thought, hey it’s all cool, I’ll be fine going to the airport (Gatwick this time, not Heathrow) by train. I walked to Brockley station – I was early by half an hour, that’s how scared I was of missing my train – and apparently there had been some fault at West Croydon which had got fixed, but delayed a few trains. mine was still scheduled as on time though, so second time lucky. then suddenly it was cancelled.

which wasn’t that bad, because I knew the alternatives. it was just annoying and I was slightly worried I might be late to check in. so I got on the Overground to West Croydon. then I considered taking the tram to East Croydon where the connection to Gatwick was supposed to depart, but I thought I remembered it as being just one stop away, and I also thought I remembered it looking very close to West Croydon on Google Maps.

to summarise what happened, lesson learnt: never walk from West to East Croydon stations while pulling around 30kg of luggage.

anyway, now that I’m back all that (the tiring flight included) is rather irrelevant. hello people and humidity and (proper) food, I’m glad to see you.

this seems familiar…

have finished my work, packing etc. now I’m only worrying about the weather – its forecast to snow tomorrow morning. thus far Gatwick hasn’t pushed out any warnings, so hopefully that’s a good sign. at any rate, if there’s chaos, at least it wouldn’t be the first time I’m encountering it.

next post, singapore. (fingers crossed!)

it’s quite amazing/scary how fast this term has passed. this time next week I will be on a plane to dubai and then home.

just finished my last script & prose writing class for this term. one more week of thinking about Rachel and Kenneth and Cyril before they’re finally out of my hands. enjoyed the process overall I guess, though working on my story was one of those things that was always so difficult to start. I switched my practice option specialisation from photography to script & prose a week ago, I’m hoping I don’t regret it for the next one and a half years.

have been bleeding readings on Durkheim and Simmel and subjectivity and therapeutics and discipline through my ears for the past few weeks to prepare for my essays. the longer one on psychology is more or less done, thank goodness, so I have the weekend and 3 more days for the other and story editing. (and then the last day to pack and go to M&S to buy as many packs of cookies as I can.)

thinking about it, I’ve enjoyed this term. it was what I always thought university would be like: intellectually interesting. (well, generally.) my seminar leader said yesterday I should go on and do an MA. it does seem appealing at this particular moment. not too sure whether it’ll still be after 6 years of work.

anyway, time for Durkheim and Simmel. one more week!

as our december sun is setting

I know it’s not december, though as I type this the sun is setting (it’s only almost 4pm). that is a random title using a line from my favourite Death Cab song, Brothers On A Hotel Bed, which to my amazement and very great happiness the band performed last night. more on that in a bit.

so I’m into the second half of term, with almost exactly 4 weeks till I go back to singapore for christmas. life’s been good. just submitted mid-term coursework this week, along with the first draft of my short story. with regard to school, I can’t help feeling as if there’s a lot more about the stuff I’m studying that I’m supposed to ‘get’, but I’m not getting it. not anybody’s fault in particular; it’s just that there’s no time to go in-depth and even if there was I wonder if I (we) would even be able to comprehend it.

other stuff. jafnie came over the weekend before last (wow that’s actually a long time ago now I think about it), and there was SingSem, which was a kinda forum/discussion thing for civil service scholars. it was… troubling in some ways, as in the attitudes some people held, though luckily not so much in a I-just-got-a-horrible-vision-of-my-future kinda way.

we went on a day trip to Windsor and Eton, which are just across each other along the Thames. Windsor Castle was suitably old and opulent. pity we couldn’t get to go inside Eton College though cause they close to visitors after october.

Windsor Castle

yet another airport misadventure with jafnie when he flew off on monday, he almost missed his flight again. because before that we were along oxford street shopping (again).

the next weekend I was in Bath with muthu and zhangfan. very pretty city, especially in sunlight. took a tour to Stonehenge as well.

Inside the Roman Baths in Bath (ok duh)

Stonehenge

the weather’s changing now. I still can’t stand how early it gets dark; I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. yesterday and the day before were around 6 degrees, but occasionally there’s still the lovely autumn day:

watched Wicked this past monday with woonloong. amazing show – the story, costumes, and of course the singing… woah. would thoroughly recommend it. in fact I think I actually wouldn’t mind watching it again sometime later. also saw a very good performance of Hamlet at the Young Vic a couple weeks back; they set it in a madhouse, and the actor playing Hamlet also played his father’s ghost. it reminded me of all the times we tried so hard in tsd to come up with a ‘directorial concept’. got tickets for all the Young Vic productions coming up. also want to catch Juno and the Paycock (can you believe it!) sometime soon.

which brings me up to date, to Death Cab. last night was the second time I was watching them after Munich, and I was so glad I did. they played all my favourites: A Lack Of Color, The New Year, We Looked Like Giants (amazing interlude bit with Ben Gibbard on drums) and of course Brothers On A Hotel Bed. really liked how they played some old ones too.

on a random note, I was thinking today how even though I’m such a big fan (I knew all the lyrics to just about every one of the 26 songs they performed yesterday, and I know they did 26 songs, because I took down the setlist on my phone) I actually wouldn’t want to meet them in person. I would have no idea what to say.

anyway. their songs have been playing in my head the entire day today. bliss.

missing home.

it’s a lovely autumn day here. I’m sitting in our kitchen, at my favourite spot, where I can look straight out of the windows. the sky is a very very pale blue, merging to white at the horizon, and there’s a single plane gliding across the view, leaving a wispy trail. everything is tinged gold in the late-afternoon light, the trees are swaying with the wind. and ‘Gold In The Air Of Summer’ is playing. I could really just sit and look out for hours.

it makes me think of days at home, grey clouds streaking the sky outside, yet an almost searing brightness. inside it’s cool, and a breeze breathes in. zaizai is lying on his little sofa. occasionally there’s the sound of car horns, or children playing downstairs, or the nasi lemak lady. everything’s still. I’m reading the paper, or ironing clothes, or looking out, or just thinking. soon the rest of my family will be back, maybe my sister with charlene. maybe at night there’ll be supper with a friend, friends.

on those days I could already grasp how fleeting they were, how each moment would inevitably be followed by another.

yesterday I was ironing my clothes and I couldn’t help smiling. I remember how a couple of weeks back my sister said she misses her clothes being ironed and folded neatly.

funnily enough, I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I think it’d make me miss them even more. but I really pray that life is good for everybody.

two weeks later.

the memory of stepping back into my london house almost exactly two weeks ago already seems hazy. yup, a great deal has happened: there was unpacking, and cleaning up, and multiple trips to sainsbury’s and the deptford high street, and going to ikea (in croydon – an hour away, no less).

I’ve already seen muthu twice in two weeks, and met zhang fan and woon loong as well. it is always surreal to see a friend here, both of us transplanted out of our, um, natural environment, wearing sweaters or jackets and wandering around london (or copenhagen) streets. it is also always a profound blessing.

returning this time was surprisingly easy. I honestly thought I might cry again at the airport, because I’d been back home for so long and enjoyed summer so much. I suppose it was about time to come back after all. moving into a wonderful house with friends and meeting up with people from back home sure has helped any homesickness too.

my room

our kitchen. gonna spend a lot of time in there – it’s just nice to sit at the table and nua

spent three lovely days in copenhagen. perfect weather while I was there – nordic blue skies, sunlight and cool temperatures. add to that plenty of canals, lakes and parks around, plus classically European buildings, palaces and monuments, and you have a great place to wander around in. it’s not the most happening place ever, but it seems like such a pleasant place to live. here’s a little selection of photos:

Nyhavn, the most picturesque bit of Copenhagen that always appears on postcards. 

Christiania, a self-proclaimed free town in the middle of the city. Alternative Copenhagen, indeed.

Rosenborg Palace, one of the Danish royal family’s (many) residences. A surprisingly small, almost understated palace, set in a beautiful park, Kongens Have.

along the southern basin of Sortedams Sø, one of the inner-city lakes ringing the city centre. 

the obligatory tourist shot of Copenhagen’s most famous statue. also probably the most hated by Copenhageners – she was beheaded twice! not the most memorable bit of my trip, if I’m honest

many thanks to the host and his friends – I almost felt as if I was on exchange with them by the end of the three days. missing woonloong’s humour (or not) and, on a random note, the foosball table in their hall (brought back NS memories man).

had my first class yesterday: the very woolly-sounding Communication, Psychology and Experience. after the lecture and seminar, I still wasn’t sure what direction the course was taking. have to wait and see I suppose. on thursday I have the equally woolly-sounding Intellectual Foundations of Social Theory, and on friday Script & Prose for practice. which leaves tuesday and wednesday as free days (hence the blogging). the plan is to use free days to blog – need major catchup on Bits & Pieces – and start on learning Photoshop and keeping up with the guitar. though I foresee a lot of reading to be done once essay topics are released.

that should be about it for now. till next time!