Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus altor'

Superhuman Ethics

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 00:40:47 GMT

Flight of fancy. Should one ever retaliate in kind whatever hurt someone else has inflicted upon someone you care? Standard answer is: depending on the amount of hurt/depending on how close the person is to you. Today, an insight came upon me that struck me like an epiphany. How about this consideration? It also depends on whether the victim has any consideration for the person whom hurt them. A common example is the often domesticated issue of a husband hitting a wife. Can/should/ought something be done? Remedial actions are often justified by law and the prerogative that no one should devalue their own life below others; since that would be inequality which leads to continued abuse. A harder case to justify would be when the victim receives a barrage of verbal abuse and the concerned is as close if not closer than the person carrying out the abuse. In such a case, would not a failure to act be viewed as the inability to protect people and ideals that one personally stands for? In another sense, if the victim asks one not to act upon the issue; does it mean that one's repaying hurt with kindness and wants you to do the same? Or does it mean that the particular person who have dealt the hurt is closer to one than you? However, is it not a fair conclusion that regardless the intention, the person who have dealt the hurt still mean something to the victim? I think the latter conclusion to be almost irrefutable. Would this make a good paper topic I wonder.

N.A

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 03:52:23 GMT

Columbia at 0120

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 05:25:08 GMT

Sitting in the students lounge right after finishing homework is some sort of an epiphany: school can be enjoyable. Especially after finishing my Calculus I homework and realising that all my solutions are actually right, that felt like some kind of accomplishment. I had the most enjoyable lecture in my life today which was on Darwin and Evolution. Lit-Hum was invigorating especially since it was on Homer's Illiad(which I have 7 chapters to read before Monday) and getting to know the Greek Gods and their human alliances was kinda cool. Now I no longer have to scratch my head when watching <> or films like that. I'm falling in love... with an institution that provides so many opportunities to explore all the different areas of human knowledge, save the sciences. But for now, goodnight New York and Good Afternoon Singapore!

天刹孤星

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 04:27:05 GMT

子曰：“人无远虑，必有近忧。”

道理是再也清楚不过的。但是回来的这一段日子里面，真的让我非常之担忧。或许真的是犯太岁，又或是八字不合。家里的问题一日比一日差。回来是否是对的选择？处身千里之外，视而不见，问题难道就能解决？解铃还需系铃人，但始终是自己家事。我真的应该弃之不顾还是留下，这是一个好难回答的问题。留下不代表我有能力解决，只可能是缓兵之计。离开是否等于逃避弃之于不顾？

难道天命正是如此？人生有很多个选择，当一个人的抉择不影响到身边最关心的人，它是容易的。当它的回响有可能是晴天霹雳如当头棒喝的时候，它可能是人生中不能弥补或补救的失误。亲情一旦失去，到底是覆水难收，还是能够失而复得？生命的价值在于一个人所做出的选择而走过的路，此路又应该怎走下去呢？

醉翁之意不在酒，只感叹：酒入愁肠愁更愁，挥刀断水水更留。

唉哉！

SING-A-PORH....

Sun, 26 Jul 2009 21:04:48 GMT

Coming back seems surreal. It constitutes drinking "til the cows come home"; staying with my parents; having nothing to do with life. All in the reverse order of (dis)importance. Meeting some friends that knows some scars didn't help. Hanging out with extremely pretty girls doesn't help either. Spending time with real friends seem extremely scary because they know how to read you like a book. In reverse order of enjoyment. But end of the day, this trip should have been reversed, I always seem to drift aimlessly like a floater whenever I'm back "HOME".

The last lap unwinds

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 02:30:12 GMT

So its finals time and I am finding myself in academic limbo. Can no longer find the motivation to study for the stupid anthro and business exams this coming thursday and sunday. Partied the whole of last weekend away figuring its gonna be one of the last few LA weekends left. Woke up from an alcohol induced coma that lasted the whole of Sunday only to finally wake up at 3am Monday morning after being concussed from saturday night/ sunday morning. Forced myself to read my anthropology notes but finding the subject to be thoroughly non fulfilling, unlike what I had signed up for. I had thought it would be a subject about evolution and more theory based. Its just endless logjams of names that do not make any sense. As for business, I could probably ace it with only a half-days worth of studying hence procrastinating. Columbia seems too far and there are too many things between then and now that has to be settled. I feel like a voyager with no end in sight; floating and drifting wherever the tide brings me right now.

Cigarettes and Dogs

Wed, 27 May 2009 06:29:51 GMT

There is not a time like tonight whereby I suddenly notice a spike in cigarette intake. I was staring out of my bedroom window and just gazing at the moon that seems to hang for an eternity at the same spot in the night sky while the traffic goes by. I wonder why are humans always such fickle creatures. When there's company, one craves for solitude. Yet when the silence and catharsis of the night rolls in, I can't help but be remembered of the good times I had when there was actually someone around the house.

Maybe its this kind of moments, a lonely tuesday night, that thoughts get wild and imaginations are let fly. When one curses at his inability to get even one friend out of bed to accompany him for a cup of hot tea and to discuss philosophies in life. There is no doubt in my mind that the previous comment could be overturned if I were in Singapore or if it was a call for imbibing alcohol. Yet, my rationale mind got the better of me in one of the rare circumstances when an infection and a slow healing wound serves as deathly reminders of my chronic disease.

Sometimes I wonder to myself, as the only child, there will be a day whereby my dad and mum are gone. Where if my inability to find a life partner hits so close to home. That I will be alone, stuck; listening to the chorus of the crickets and the foreplay of the toads. Is this the path that I would like to walk down? Why should I stay single? People often ask me to find a proper partner, someone who would cajole, enliven and necessarily matter to me and my life. Yet what do I have to give in return? Nothing but a bag of illnesses that will one day turn into a nightmare of a burden for someone.

This proposition reminds me of why I should get a dog instead. That a dog's years would most likely be before the reaper comes for me is of utmost importance. That I could shower it with all the love in the world and know of nothing to ask for it but its undivided friendship and loyalty. That i could open my deepest fears and worries without any hesitation about betrayal of trust. We could take long walks together, just me and my dog; counting down to our necessary death.

Fucking-anthropologistovorous

Thu, 21 May 2009 23:10:45 GMT

Allow me to pose a question: "Do you know what frugivorous means?"

Answer: "A diet that consists primarily of fruits."

I hope that shed some light on the topic of this post. My main gripe at this exact moment in my life is the non-appreciativeness of anthropologists (and taxonomists in particular) of the beauty of Essentia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem (simplicity). I mean why do we have to confuse matters by giving freaking unrealistic names to dead fossilized anything.

Pongoidea for Orangutans? Why not Ah-Meng-had-an-idea? Ccb. Cercopethicoidea? How about trying just old world monkeys? Hylobats? Why not just small-swinging-apes for gibbons and siamangs? The fucking Genus and family names have no bloody sense and makes none unless you are a student of greek and latin which is frustrating.

Frustrating because:
1. The study of taxonomy or anthropology is to understand human evolution, not a class to appreciate greek or latin vocabulary.
2. Why would you want to impede the progress of the field of study through the memorization of stupid names that belong ~ 21st century?
3. There's a fucking reason why one of the hardest names to spell in the english language is hippopotamus.

So there you go, a short rant on the ineffectiveness of naming fossils in the traditional romantic way by adding a christened name in front a sub family of species. Why the fuck Australopidecus anamensis when the fucking fossil is found in Kenya and not in Australia? Only because Australo means the south. Even if the name was S.Kenyapidecus would have made more fucking sense in relation.

To part, allow me to entertain all the scientists who loves to give these uninteresting and archaic names to everything and anything they study. How about changing ischial callosity into lao-gao-kar-cheng-wu-blister?

Ccb.

Beautiful and Ugly

Thu, 21 May 2009 22:54:36 GMT

I'm getting greatly annoyed by how little attention span I have recently. Nothing seems to capture my eyes for long enough. Last night was a great night though. Ah mah came over and we were having a discussion about girls - especially girls that I'm interested in and those who are interested in me. I think I have exceptionally high standards and she confirmed this. Why is it that everyone always tells me to lower the bar? Seriously, I'm sorry to say this, but when I went through pictures of all the ex girlfriends I came to a shocking conclusion, none of them actually hit 9 in my books. Before you people start flaming me, yes, they were all 10 character wise... *redemption*. But then again, if thats the case, it would also mean that my bar is not very high what, 8.5 is enough.

Trying to intellectualize this concern of mine, I went back to Darwin and Sartre to try and figure out how to synthesize the idea of aesthetics, particularly female beauty in the eyes of men, and how men actually view their own social and personal selfs. Its interesting how little synthesis there is of Evolutionary theories into modern day philosophy. Obviously, as extremely cautious and critical philosophers tend to be, we tend to only try to find faults in theories most of the time other than those that we like or hold dear to our hearts. Yet, I think there might be a little insight provided by evolution towards a male attempting to find a mate.

Physical attraction, whether subjectively governed by the golden ratio or the size of a female's bust, appears to be the first thing that matters to males. I am over generalizing here, so if any brothers of the same sex wish to disagree, pls leave a comment. However, it strikes me that men are not only extremely visual animals but they are also extremely picky. Everyone seems to have their own idea of a perfection of beauty(in a woman's physical form). Yet, Hume's contested idea of a standard of taste seems to be largely accurate here.

Female beauty, seems to be a part of aesthetics where most men seem to agree; that most other men are as exacting a connoisseur as they are. Its hard to find someone to disagree with you on which female is hot other than maybe the commonly heard response: "She's beautiful... but not my type". This respond confounds me, both philosophically and personally. How is it possible that I might find one girl of equal beauty as another but would be able to tell, only on superficial looks, that one is more 'my type' than the other?

On the other hand, it is never difficult to come to a similar conclusion as your friend when an ugly girl walks into the bar and everyone starts cracking 'ugly' jokes? There never seem to be a similar consensus that goes something akin to "she's ugly, but not my kind of ugly"? Why the disparity? If beauty is the opposite of ugliness and vice versa, shouldn't we be able to polarize both ends into a gradual step of grades?

Worst of all are the "run-of-the-mill" girls. These species of the opposite sex tend to post the most difficult problems when it comes to having a consensus amongst our own kind. A girl on anywhere from a scale of 5-8 in my books would easily end up as a 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 or even 9 in someone else's. How is this possible? Assuming that every male is an exacting connoisseur of female beauty, why the disparity?

Hoping to answer these questions with evolution tends to give a better insight. When we see physical specimens of the opposite sex, we straightaway attempt to grade that person; for whatever sexual reproductive or lineage concerns both genetically and culturally influenced, we might have. Now, it isn't difficult for people to agree on both ends of the scale because certain physiological factors almost immediately give the game away, proportion, size and other cultural factors like dressing and gait.

To answer the problem we face when dealing with the beautiful; I propose we consider what is a subjective response. That there involves a certain rating that is what many aestheticians would call too little aesthetic distance. As our primal instincts start to kick in, with adrenaline rushing through the body, we are then forced physiologically into a mode of wanting to "own" the item. In turn, we not only start to objectively evaluate a woman's beauty but subjectively attempt to figure them out, not unlike something like a compatibility chart-list.
This is the reason why some might find a beautiful girl "my type" or "not my type" IMO.

Dealing with the ugly, seems to bring about an over-distancing problem. Where the human male eye intentionally avoids contact for too long in an attempt to shun away from the aesthetically un-pleasing. Thus, the brain over distances itself from the subject of contemplation and we guys are not able to come up with something like, "She's not my type of ugly". Hence, any morphological or physical attributes are not clearly defined as to why a member of the opposite sex appears to be ugly in any certain way.

Coming to the middle tier of girls; we see the ability of all men to be exacting connoisseurs of the female sex and the beauty they possess. It is typically a scenario whereby we, of the male variety, are in a mode that is in the proper aesthetic distance. We no longer are really driven by banal instincts to want to possess the subject being evaluated nor are we intentionally shunning the prospect of critiquing the ugly. We can pick out parts and details as to what pleases the eye and what do not. In this case, there comes an increase in the diversity of answers to the question of "How pretty is this girl on your scale".

To summarize, this is an exceptionally male viewed way of interpreting the subject of female beauty. I in no way attempt to claim to know any subjective opinion on how females view female beauty and I do not intend to speak for every individual male homosapien. These are largely generalized observations with an intention to shed light on how we males actually view females.

*tongue not so in cheek*

Getting Older －离经叛道的痛处

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 15:03:48 GMT

Walking around town, there is this improbable feeling of being old. Not my "real" age as psychologists would label it, but in the form of biological age. Having dinner at Westwood probably ranks at the top of the list when this sort of feeling overcomes and overwhelms. As my eyes start flirting around this trendy neighborhood near UCLA, sipping on whatever alcoholic drink in hand; I cannot help but notice the plethora of college going students and many young families of, I suspect, graduate students.

As I stare long and hard, people in two age groups significantly affect me. The first belong to the eighteen to early twenty year olds who all look incredibly, too mature for their age. Maybe its their culture that shapes independence from an early age, leaving the nest, so to speak. What is a 24 year old doing amongst this whole army of emerging teenagers and youngsters? I often deride that most of these kids are intellectually inferior specimens; with improper attitudes and outlook on life. Yet, was I not worse when I was at this age?

The next group that shakes me up are the babies in the arms of the parents of young families. I've spoken to a few, of the parental kind, and more often than not they are either extremely successful, career-wise, young professionals or graduate students pursuing further research. Eating away at me, is the feeling of awe, inspiration and ultimately, fear.

For I have taken a road less travelled, an unbeaten path that was filled with unnecessary trials and tribulations; that were mostly my own creations and I should have no business of. The older (pun intended) group in this case reminds me of my own past. One filled with total disregard of social conventions and eccentricity. It was a time of leaving the crowd, taking a detour en-route to whatever society asks from all of us. The younger group acts like a glimpse into the crowd. As my path slowly veers towards the conventional, peeking above the bushes, I am no longer in my own obscure and oblivious world.

Not unlike a weary voyager who is informed of developments of his own civilization, I am first overwhelmed by it all. Comparisons with the person I was when I left the "herd" brings back fond memories of insolence and a "do-it-my-way" attitude. The world was My oyster. Now, I am but just a weary and insular traveller. As my path brings me ever closer back to convention, fear of something so familiar yet so incomprehensible overwhelms me. Should I now attempt to merge back? Yet society will never fail to impose some form of barrier between me and you, regardless. If i continue obstinately on my own journey and path, what awaits me in my own future?

Vexed

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 06:17:58 GMT

I dont know what to saw but this is probably going to be a post that should not have ever occur or need to occur. Life is great. Yet sometimes, family "legacies" seem to never ever leave you even when you're contemplating of the future that somehow looks much brighter. Just when I thought that I could jump out of the vortex of downward spiraling, I'm constantly reminded of how any individual is not only a make-up of what he does and what he wants to do but also what he stands for and how others can and will affect him.

Sometimes I feel like telling the two people closest to me in the world to just really settle their own problems without having to tell me anything. The lady especially is constantly reminding me of how wrath can turn a jovial and happy lady into a shadow of her past with more spite and bitterness entering into her own life.

Yet, this is a pious responsibility that every Son must endure.

A mistake from the past will always serve to haunt the present.

Demise of Jubilation

Mon, 06 Apr 2009 23:02:24 GMT

Ok, I am feeling quite shitty right about now. A sudden pang of fear hit me. All this excitement about moving to a new city, New York no less. I think it would be a very scary thing when I REALLY do have to get down to moving all these things which seems unlikely because somehow, my schedule conflict is F up-ed. I feel stupid in logic class. I just probably bombed my way out of Aesthetics exam not having write fast enough to finish three essays in one hour and fifteen minutes. And I have a suspicion that my health, specifically my kidney, has deteriorated even though there might be a slight possibility its the result of vitamin B pills that I just newly bought and tried from the pharmacy. I mean, I do swim 30 laps every two days, how can I possibly be worst of than when I was drinking 30 cups of alcohol per day right? Or maybe its time to pay those debts?

Do you know the feeling how sometimes the world turns a shade darker and appears to be gloomy because you suspect a dark dominion is gonna take over your life and its lurking around the corner? I feel exactly that way right now.

游龙戏凤

Mon, 30 Mar 2009 02:58:30 GMT

我小时听收音说：

幸福就像一个玻璃球，如果掉到地上，碎片会飞得到处都是。

每一个人都可以去检，每一个人都有权利拥有幸福。

但是不论你多努力，你都检不完。

但只要你努力，你总会检到一点的。

我也信。

Jubilation and Despair

Thu, 19 Mar 2009 21:18:30 GMT

Getting a phone call from an "Unknown" number and thinking that it was my dad, I rushed out of Symbolic Logic class to pick up the phone.

"Hi, May I speak to Lester please"
"This is"
"I'm calling from Columbia Universi...."

The rest of the conversation kind of faded in my mind as the adrenaline rushed to my brain. I'm going to New york, New York!!! That message totally changed the course of the whole day. From a cold Monday morning that I had to wake up at 9am in the morning and spend half an hour trying to find a lot in the multi story car park into the most splendid Monday morning with the California sun and Mediterranean wind slowly blowing into my hair...It was like one of those moments in those cliche Hollywood(pun intended) films. I went around, unabashedly, calling everyone that mattered and thanking the professors who wrote those splendid recommendation letters for me.

And then the message sunk in. I have always been so engrossed about the prospects of going to Columbia that I never did think about what it really meant. Of course, the cons are little when compared to the pros. Yet, it was a moment of folly thinking everything thats going to result of this decision is gonna be perfectly pleasant. This I found out when I returned home and stared at the lease agreement for the condo unit, the furniture, the car etc. Its a logistics nightmare. Nothing a little hard work and some extra cash cannot solve, but I felt too lazy.

I feel like I deserve a little break. Like a break to just really celebrate this small achievement in my undeserving privileged life. Yet, I'm now boggled with so many things. I feel like being a 败家子 and just dumping them out of the WINDOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARGHZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Relieved

Tue, 17 Mar 2009 21:53:58 GMT

In the words of today's youth "OH-M._GEEEE". No one can feel this subjective feeling of relief and joy within me at this moment. I have never had to study so hard for a subject and only to aim for a "B" and I DID IT! Theatre Arts suddenly appear to be like a semi-conquerable subject especially with two extra credit opportunities which sadly involves the drudgery of watching plays. LOL, every time I walk into a theatre it smells of sleep inducing black lavender mist and sounds like a lullaby, but I'll try... to at least keep awake.

Anyway, I am so happy now I can't describe it. So I'm gonna indulge in a tvb marathon... LOL

One Year. Commemorating the death of my own romantic ideals.

Mon, 16 Mar 2009 05:31:26 GMT

I thought I would get by this day without even remembering. I was smoking at my balcony and a sudden sense of nostalgia hit me, which resulted in three straight fags. The feeling was a weird melancholy. As if I am supposed to remember something but tried as I might; could not. It was one of those indescribable feelings. The best example I can think of is like forgetting the first death anniversary of someone that used to hold a certain importance in your life; yet, is not that important.

A cosmic interlude and the phone rang. My mum ran slid the door open to inform me. I picked it up wondering why the hell it rang; with such a ringtone.

The message read "Today we broke up".

One year of being in single-dom. Thats why it rang. Like a bully that takes pleasure in taunting one with words that really should mean nothing, it struck a chord within me. Thinking that it might be some mistake, I relived the archive of this blog. Is it any irony how electronics never get things wrong but the human mind does; especially when the latter is the one who entered the information in the first place for whatever lunatic-like reason to remind oneself of a day that, maybe, should never be brought back to mind?

What's done cannot be undone.

This year has been extremely special. I've learnt so many different things deduced from so many life experiences, I feel as if I can no longer recognize the same person I was a year ago. The scariest lesson was like a Greek trilogy, when I found out what was said to my mum, when the call came before the judgement that had nothing to do with it, when in a drunken stupor I got involved in a bloody fistfight on the eve of Mother's Day.

Yet, I am somehow perversely thankful to everything that was doled out to me. I was a beggar. A beggar in self-destructive mode. Begging for everything from love, kinship, friendship, attention, success and a beating as a wake up call. I should have known that beggars all share a common trait: living off the charity of everyone else. When people are no longer in a charitable mood, what use is there in a beggar but to remind them of their own insecurities?

Thank you.

执子之手，与子偕老

Fri, 06 Mar 2009 02:57:38 GMT

I am doing research on a paper for a class entitled "Can a Confucian love a Platonist and Vice Versa". I know it sounds weird, but thats just me I guess. Well, upon coming up with this topic, I have been going through the Analects again, both in chinese and english; and Plato's Symposium and Republic and stuff like that. This is a 'breather break', ok, I coined that term, from symbolic logic and seriously I find myself a little impaired when coming to writing fluent sentences suddenly for my essays. I seem to be able to break down essays into sentences, analyze them and form them into thesis statements and propositions or premises to support their thesis more than I can write a fluent sentence. I don't know if I'm making sense but writing this piece right now appears to be difficult. It seems as if I cannot form my sentences properly, always double checking and thinking to myself whether what I've said was making sense... Damn, is some part of my brain suddenly infected with some form of virus? I used to type so much more faster without a need to stop to think again what I want to say...

Anyway, so while doing research my mind went of on a tangent(or another internet link in fact), and I clicked on a link to 唐诗三白首 to take a break from 诗经, and lo and behold I came across the above two sentences. It made me stop and wonder, "Bloody hell!!! The ang mohs thought that romantic love was invented by them during the Renaissance??? KNN, WE invented romantic love like more than 10 centuries ago way before you guys did!". Ok, that wasn't the main thing but it got me started. I realize that although a lot of people actually are in a search for a romantic love of sorts, this search they often, when they are still searching, would describe it as a melodrama or worst still, tragedy. Yet, I was wondering, how often does it translate, in someone's life, into a tragicomedy? Where people actually will have a happy ending? Or is it more likely than not a black comedy? Where we as individuals are the subjects, and Fate chose to gang up with Aphrodite as the playwrights, and are just playing a cruel joke on all of us?

OK, I'm not making sense here... If you read it I'm sorry I've wasted your time, because I am really just trying to write something so that I can sharpen my dull and blunt writing skills.

Or maybe I'm not???

字字句句唱出我心声。。。点解！！！

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 06:46:54 GMT

Photos from the NEW contraband camera

Mon, 16 Feb 2009 20:13:45 GMT

Back Home

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 01:29:39 GMT

Survived another 18 hour flight plus 2.5 hours of transit to come back to SG again. Seriously, airports and plane rides no longer seem to be that dreadful anymore... In the sense that I no longer dread it before going into the plane; it still sucks big time once I enter the cabin and am trying to pry my eyes away from the 'time left to destination' counter. It did not help that I was not able to sleep in the plane for the whole ride back this time. I'm dreading CNY with all its family problems... Too sick to even type it out... Sigh...

酒醉三日千年醒

Mon, 19 Jan 2009 06:24:16 GMT

These days in LA, I'm starting to find a simple pleasure in cooking my own meals again. I don't know why, but my style of cooking is bias towards simplicity. No flavors that bursts in your mouth, just simple ingredients that are plain and fresh. When I was younger, I always attempted food that would just burst in the mouth with a plethora of flavors... Maybe, not unlike a fairy tale, I've grown sick of those stories and with it, its myriad of emotions.

My first foray back into the kitchen (for which, seemed like many months ago), started with a sense of boredom. One that so encapsulates you, you feel like the whole world was like a cave, as Plato once attempted to describe reality, that you feel as if one was just looking at dancing shadows all around you, trying to figure out whatever is real that was casting it in the first place. Undoubtedly, CNY brings this sort of feeling to me. Every year, as time washes all the pain away from this annual ordeal, I am less reminded of those troubles my family has to go through. Yet, unlike a discontinuous circle , time never fails to bring back this occasion to remind me of everything that I have to attempt to forget. The salmon was simple, marinated in lemon, pepper and salt and baked in the oven. I downed it, with a bottle of beer an unkind reminder that my culinary skills might have all but evaporated away from me.

The next day, after an intense conversations with G and P over MSN, whilst I was continuing my berserk over Heineken bottles and whatever that was left over in the Hennesy VSOP bottle, I woke up in the morning feeling utterly lost. I found my way back to Century City Mall and, at first, decided to watch a movie; if only just to burn time, a friend and a foe, towards the inevitable trip back home to 'celebrate' this occasion of paramount importance in Chinese culture. As there was some time left, I wandered into the Brazilian restaurant with a bar. Without having anything in my stomach from 9 in the morning thru 2 in the afternoon, the Mojitos caught both my attention and then my palette, in respective order. Deynica met me at the bar and I decided to cook again, to feed the now angry and upset stomach acid.

I decided to stick to salmon and attempted to throw in a little mix by adding some scallops into the veggies. Armed with a slight reminder of all the marinade, spices and timing of how I used to cook, I stocked up on thyme, white wine, olive oil, cinnamon sticks etc. I used to cook a mean meal and I refused to believe, and rightly so, that a talent that comes that naturally to me would disappear; leaving as frivolously as it came. I dug up old memories like an eager schoolboy looking for his favorite fiction storybook in a library, and started to marinade the salmon in white wine, thyme, sea salt and fresh ground pepper with a splash of fresh lemon juice. The scallops went into the bowl with similar ingredients except that a little cinnamon was added freshly cut from its stick, after a light sauté over the pan in canola butter and olive oil. The dinner turned out perfect, even to my own extremely demanding standard. Which entertained a slightly amused me; wondering why I am actually bestowed such a gift from heaven. Likely so that I can continue feeding that little paunch of a stomach that refuses to go away for 23 years? The Veuve Cliquot and Pinot Grigio slowly eased my mind of these, and other, worthless thoughts.

The next morning, I was woken up by Deynica and August through a phone call to go savor some exceptional dim sum place in MPK. It wasn't exceptionally good, when compared to similar species you could find back in Singapore or more so, in Hong Kong. Yet, it would probably win Best of Show if the competition was localized within Los Angeles itself and the trip was definitely not in vain. We had our feet massaged and I decided to take a nap at home after that. Woke up at a quarter to 7 by an SMS from a girl I met at the Brazilian restaurant the day before who asked me how my day was. Since I was disturbed from my dreams, decided to crawl up from my bed and headed to the supermarket to get ingredients to cook my own dinner.

Bought a couple of thinly sliced beef steaks and a fillet of some wild caught fish, if my memory serves my right being of the red snapper variety, and headed back home. Set the beef into a marinade of thyme, pepper, salt, kneaded into a ball with some butter and added some red wine to boost the flavor. The steak came out not as perfect as I would have liked, being on the thin side, I could not cook it as well as a thicker slice of rib eye. Yet, the way its cut, has already pre-destined it to dinner material, not something a Michelin connoiseur would be able to comment on or even bother to in the first place.

I realized two things from these three days. First of all, like how all families appear to be almost similar on the outside, red wine itself as a category holds only because it is red, whatever that universal of a word it may stand for. Yet, every varietal and perhaps every bottle, holds its own unique taste and characteristics. I've come to a realization, that I prefer the Pinot grape. Sipping a bottle of Pinot Noir today and a Pinot Grigio yesterday, made me realize that in the end, one might differentiate a bottle by money (price for certain labels, social standing for certain families), time (its vintage, or how long a family has had its longstanding feud), terroir (the country of origin and the unique taste of its dirt, or the culture and differences a family might blame for its exceptional circumstance) etc; as long as one develops a certain taste or liking towards that varietal, one has to accept its pros and cons.

The next thing that I came to a realization to, or maybe stumbled into and managed to observe after a sudden Eureka moment, was that the vegetables did not change, regardless of the main entree. Be it a beef steak, a fillet of salmon or a pan of sauté scallops; the greens that keeps me healthy stays the same. The formula: garlic, baby carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, shitake mushrooms and bell peppers. A little hint, I've listed them according to the order that you should fry them in a saucepan just in case you need a little help with sauteed greens. Remember though, a little canola based butter before the garlics and a healthy dose of extra virgin olive oil before the mushrooms and bell peppers makes the dish all the more palatable. Allow me to digress a little more, but I prefer my bell peppers a little on the crunchy side, if you like it the other way, throw it in before the mushrooms.

Sipping on my Pinot Noir and burning up a cig right now. I wish everyone all the best for CNY. 愿世间人，福寿安康。有家眷者，事事顺心。

BACK TO LA

Tue, 13 Jan 2009 06:03:58 GMT

I swear the world is coming to an end. Or at least my world. Survived an 8 hour drive straight home from Tahoe to LA. Reached home, and the a/c is under maintanence and they've shut it off. I hate central venting. So, I don't mind not having hot water to bathe but I SO DAMN MIND that there is no air con to sleep in. I have to sleep in an arctic environment. Am thinking of checking into a hotel just to pass the night.... :(

Tahoe Craziness

Sun, 11 Jan 2009 06:57:05 GMT

Ok, so we went to pick up August from Sacramento. On the way, we stopped by this ski place that had a huge discount. Went in, and the snowboarding boots were on sale. Which was weird, considering that it is still winter season right now. Couldn't resist and got a pair of Burton boots for 130 USD, and one of the top line kinds not the entry level. Its surprising how much these stuffs are way overpriced in Japan and Hokkaido. Headed up to Lake Tahoe area. Sadly, the weather forecast wasn't good, its actually not cold enough. :(

The cabin lodge that we are living in is so damn freaking cool. Its called fireside inn and there really is a fireplace in the room. The whole place is like those quintessential lodges that you would see on those american movies. The place is family run and really extremely cosy. There's like a smaller room whereby they serve like make-yourself breakfast, pancakes, , muesli, bagels etc. We had breakfast and headed out for the slopes.

Upon reaching the ski resort, i lost contact with Deynica and August for like half an hour. There were so many people there. Finally found them at the board rental place. It was Deynica's first time hitting the slopes, so we stayed at the bunny slope with her until after lunch. The place closes at 430 and there's no night ski. In the end, headed up for the peak at 330. Deynica was really courageous, trying to speed down the slopes on her first attempt, sadly, she can't brake well, which accounts for a giant bruise on her left knee right now. I'm so gonna head up myself tomorrow, to try and practice my heel-toe on downhills.

Arrived back at the hotel and we booked the hot tub for an hour. It was the first time Deynica went into a jacuzzi/hot tub. It was funny, she has one at home but she doesn't use it at all. Anyway, August was challenging us to do snow angels. Basically, we were all in our bathing suit, and we ran out of the jacuzzi into the open and lay on the snow and rolled around for a minute and then jumped back into the jacuzzi. Haha, traveling with them is fun. They are the no drama kind of couple which is great and they are both damn easy-going, which fits me to a tee.

After that, we had dinner at this Irish pub restaurant place. I swear, they had the best fish and chips ever. I've always thought the best one I ever had was in London in Coventry, but this surpasses it by using pollock instead of dory as the fillet. Well, thats about it, a fun and crazy day, the only regret, not boarding as much as in Hokkaido; I'm gonna HIT DA SLOPES tomorrow!!!!!!!!

San Francisco

Fri, 09 Jan 2009 18:37:51 GMT

What a beautiful city. Drove almost close to 5 hours up north from LA to San Francisco with Deynica. We were supposed to leave at 3 am but in the end we only got our ass out onto the highway around 730. She was frantically looking for a good dim sum place and we ended up in South San Francisco. Haha... Yelp wasn't that good a help this time round. The food was so-so but I was so hungry I wolfed down the dim sum anyway. Checked into this small little hotel called Inn at the Opera. Its right opposite the city hall which has like this giant dome that is probably double the size of the dome on the singapore one. The whole place has this wonderful bohemian feel to it. Rested till night, and we headed out to sports basement to get snowboarding gear. I actually intended to only get a pair of pants, but the sale was driving the prices really goddamn low, like close to almost 50% for similar designs compared to the main Burton flagship store in LA on Melrose. Couldn't help myself, got a nice Burton Ronin Jacket in Dark Brown at 190 bucks. Yeah, now I'm all set for snowboarding. The next investment if I'm really serious about the sport will be the boots, bindings and board. However, I was way more envious of Deynica who could fit into child sizes...HAHA. Damn cheap for her can?

We headed to this restaurant that Deynica hunted down on the internet because she wanted to end my craving for good steamed fish in America, chinese style. OMG!!! We went to this restaurant on the outskirts of chinatown called R&G or something. At first, I was kinda suspicious since she had already bombed out on the recommended place for lunch she researched for. To my surprise, we ordered crab, steamed black bass canton style, and mushrooms with mustard greens. Holy cow, it was one of the best chinese restaurants I've ever been to, and this I mean in the whole world, including Singapore!!! I couldn't help but gushed and gushed about the food and enjoyed every dish to the last morsel... I even left a 25% tip. It was that good!

After dinner, we went to check out a martini bar close to the hotel. We each had two martinis. They were so good. Everything that they used, the juice and garnishes, were so fresh you could still smell the ground they were plucked from. I had a drink called high flyer and a apple ginger based martini that I do not know what they called. The bartender was gay, nice and meticulous with the drinks that they turned out to be extremely presentable, those kind that you'd expect to find in any magazine and too good to look at than to drink.

The next morning, I smoked in the room, in a non-smoking room. Haha, Deynica was like freaking out. Apparently, here, hotels charge you for damage if you smoke in a non-smoking room. I never did care, though now since I'm traveling with a companion, I had to put all my geography knowledge to good use and create a low pressure area with hot shower steam and a high pressure area in the room by turning on the fan. Thank god there was already a huge temperature discrepancy in the room since its winter and the room was so damn cold. Walked out to have a ciggy and decided to take a leisurely stroll around the hotel area alone. Stumbled upon this cafe place with a delicious aroma of pastries and hot coffee wafting out of the door. Could not help myself and got a latte and some pastry. It was heaven. So now, we are checking out of the hotel and intend to roam the streets to see what other hidden gems this city has installed for us. I'm starting to love San Francisco.

I can't wait to pick up August from Sacremento and head up to Tahoe for the snowboarding though!!! Think I might, might just have caught the snowboarding bug as Kelvin pointed out although I am not very ready to admit it yet. Imagine a sport that you can only play in Winter... Whats gonna happen when the bug bites in Summer, Spring or Fall????

Narita

Fri, 02 Jan 2009 05:59:27 GMT

http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=JvE_MZ5e1DY

My favorite song now....