tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62710882011-07-15T05:23:44.683+08:00juzhennoreply@blogger.comBlogger1991100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1117371247450262172005-05-30T19:52:00.000+08:002005-06-06T20:20:55.266+08:00

...to an oh-so-jolly bit of cyber rental space.I've been delaying it like its some big life decision. Honestly, its just net space. So at least in the meantime, I'll be blogging @ naomi.vis-a-vis.org. Please update your links. Toodles,N.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1117306572268723732005-05-29T02:31:00.000+08:002005-05-30T23:21:17.500+08:00

I guess its easier to notice when one sees each other so sporadically, but you've really grown so much in the last year. Happy birthday Tiff. Lots of great things in your store for sure. Stay gorgeous. xo

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1117276151712574292005-05-28T17:55:00.000+08:002005-05-28T18:29:11.716+08:00

There is a whole backlog of stuff to post here from this week. Really believe me. But I'm in the middle of fluffing another cyber nest for myself. Updates on that soon. Until then, wander over here where some of my fotos are up. Happy weekend to y'all!

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1115968803081784372005-05-23T20:13:00.000+08:002005-05-29T18:14:28.966+08:00

Looking out the doorI see the rain fall upon the funeral mournersParading in a wake of sad relationsAs their shoes fill up with waterAnd maybe I'm too youngTo keep good love from going wrongBut tonight you're on my mind so you never knowBroken down and hungry for your loveWith no way to feed itWhere are you tonight?Child, you know how much I need it. Too young to hold onAnd too old to just break

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1116301316662996052005-05-17T11:33:00.000+08:002005-05-17T11:44:13.913+08:00

"I'm the most antisocial person I know.""Are you trying to be ironic?""No. How is that ironic?""Well, if you're antisocial, you can't know all that many people can you. So it follows...""Shut up smartass.""I love you too."[later in the day; Someone eats the last mouthful of a chocolate eclair;]"I'm the most hurtful person I know.""But you said you loved me. That's kinda nice.""I know. But I

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1116303306871415502005-05-17T08:57:00.000+08:002005-05-17T15:07:24.813+08:00

(i) a garagantuan rumbling of the atmosphere followed by the phosphoresence a crack of lightning that penetrated my curtains and lit up my room for a whole two seconds; I thought I was dreaming but then I heard... (ii) the whimpers of my Puppy pleading for shelter from the storm; for a 91 year old he's a bit of a juvenile. Maybe cause we treat him like one. [I got up and fed him some homemade

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1115967283520595172005-05-13T13:58:00.000+08:002005-05-13T15:03:13.606+08:00

In my last and admittedly very lazy post, I referred to an episode of Insight last Tuesday on the changing roles and relationships of men and women. Go the program website and find the link to the latest transcript if you can be bothered (its rather interesting) or check out Adrian's run down of it in his space. _____The demographer from KPMG suggests that there is a new life cycle driven by

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1115790248152217802005-05-11T13:29:00.000+08:002005-05-11T13:48:41.696+08:00

At a job interview I once sat, my interviewer expressed great interest in the activism of my voluntary portfolio. Within the first five minutes, he assured me that their firm was quite left so I needn't worry. I'd barely spoken two sentences. Am I that transparent?Political discussions when you're (moderately) trashed are confusing and political email discussions when you don't have proper

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1115614346914613022005-05-09T12:37:00.000+08:002005-05-09T12:54:50.956+08:00

At 05:57 this morning, I heard Damien Rice's cover of Prince's When Doves Cry and I am in love. I love it so much I think we should get married and have a gazzillion acoustic babies together. To top it all off Rice plays an ode to my favourite Led Zeppelin song of all time at the bridge. [ED: Babe I'm gonna leave you I swear made me wanna be rock star... or at least dance around my room and

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1115349773279336862005-05-06T10:53:00.000+08:002005-05-06T11:22:53.460+08:00

I've been stuffed with 500mls of slurpee concentrate and had blood taken out of me four times in the last two hours. If someone tells me one more time that I look pale and sickly...There is this patch of man-made man-icured wilderness in along Davy St behind the Gateway. I walk by on my way to vampire clinic and leaning on the monet/japanese garden-style bridge, not 20 metres from the rambling

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1115184360587245782005-05-04T13:03:00.000+08:002005-05-04T13:28:23.060+08:00

Notescrap from the back of my boarding pass: Wednesday April 27After travelling more than my fair share on both Virgin Blue and Qantas, my theory is that the former is the airline of choice for distance-challenged couples. (Although personal preference is for the latter) I know this because coming off the plane tonight, there were at least three I counted in the arrival/departure gates and two

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1114933393619066272005-05-01T15:29:00.000+08:002005-05-01T15:51:25.710+08:00

day one - anti vsu rallyday two - swanstonday three - essendon v. brisbane

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1114741997371196212005-04-29T10:28:00.000+08:002005-04-29T10:33:17.373+08:00

The irony of using illness as an excuse to play hooky and go to Melbourne is that I'm now actually sick.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1114440590411979062005-04-25T22:30:00.000+08:002005-04-25T23:01:20.480+08:00

You know you've gained weight when your mom's friends suggest you come to the gym with them. They initially asked my mother along but she offered me as a sacrifice instead. When they tried to get me to join, I told them I'm not the mouse-in-a-running-wheel type. And would you know my luck, they took me to my old gym.At the combat class (at an ungodly hour) this morning, I find in my absence that:

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1114351678761105182005-04-24T21:52:00.000+08:002005-04-24T22:07:58.763+08:00

So in today's sermon, the pastor tells us a story of a young couple in a long distance relationship and the man wants to call and wish his girlfriend happy birthday but being young and still in college, it was a little more than he could afford. So he thought and thought and eventually decided on sending her a telegram (pre-email days). But because they charged by the letter, a long and romantic

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1114103829400579632005-04-21T22:49:00.000+08:002005-04-22T02:28:17.006+08:00

For those of you who tune in to The Amazing Race, you'll know what one means when one talks about a bizarre attachment to these neurotic, occasionally culturally insensitive Ameeeiiirican couples. The rest of you will baulk at this next admission. Last year, I bet on Megawati and she lost; bet on Latham and he lost; bet on Kerry and he ... well you just have to look at the state of the world to

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1114000113408448622005-04-20T16:27:00.000+08:002005-04-20T20:29:21.050+08:00

Today the age listed on the boy's webpage becomes an actuality as opposed to a semi-eager anticipation. It's always nice when that's the case. Panjang umur sayang. Where would my world be without you.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1113500703284495202005-04-15T00:13:00.000+08:002005-04-15T01:45:03.286+08:00

There are of course some exceptions and I'm going to plug this public lecture cause I expect that a few of you who read this space would be interested in it... plus its held at our swanky new University Club which under normal circumstances bars non-members. Sorry, no mention of booze anywhere. Thus "ALL WELCOME". The Inaugural Karrakatta Club LecturePresented by: Dr Annie SparrowMillennium

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1112963199398174922005-04-08T18:50:00.000+08:002005-04-09T01:20:40.290+08:00

20. "You appear be lacking a strong personality...maybe its nervousness." Touché. But I can do better. I wanted you so bad I thought I'd burst a spleen right then and there. Was that what you wanted? Sepsis and B-cells all over the place?! Is that personality enough? Oh... we could've done beautiful things together, you and I. I'm penning my love letter right now.'On a scale of 1 to 5...'

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1112453510680427052005-04-02T21:52:00.000+08:002005-04-04T00:53:44.376+08:00

Journal excerpt: April 2nd 2005... The A.M. Someone better tell my dream fairy to lay off the pethadine & Lou Reed albums. My subconscious reveries all last night involved people dying left right centre.I don't remember exact details... lots of gore, maybe an impaling somewhere in there. But I must have been responsible for at least one death seeing as I woke up feeling like I was in a police

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1112371350699952632005-04-01T17:57:00.000+08:002005-04-02T01:52:27.540+08:00

Only last week, the western front scorched through 40+ degrees during the day, shards of lightning flashing across the heavy night sky and an absurd amount of humidity throughout. On days such as those, it was as though I should be back in Singapore, frantically sticking my limbs through the holes of my bathing suit so I could jump into the pool as quickly as possible and paddle amongst slow

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1111829071410352622005-03-26T16:42:00.000+08:002005-03-26T17:37:02.933+08:00

Wilson's mom is down from Singapore and she only really speaks mandarin so I had no choice but to practice. While I have always known my chinese to be quite german even at the best of times, it doesn't compare to trying to understand what the fruggle my father is trying to say. His han yu pin yin (intonation) is out of control. At one stage during lunch, we couldn't tell whether he was talking

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1111658251485907262005-03-24T17:41:00.000+08:002005-03-24T20:17:50.586+08:00

I was just invited to an hour-long interview with Boston Consulting Group next Tuesday.[yay!... But I wonder if they realise I'm an international student without PR?] They were nice enough to forewarn me about the case study examinations they put you through although my general impression is still that they're a nightmare. They suggested that I get "as much advice as [I] can possibly muster"

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1111511278775522472005-03-22T23:57:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:35:52.736+08:00

Last week was Harmony Week and I had written a series of these half-baked journal entries on racism that I was going to post up but it just conjoured an image of that colouring competition I entered when I was 8 where these kids at DJs had to colour in a picture of an easter bunny in a minute. Holding up our results after the flurry of crayola, the judge was clearly at a loss as to which blur of

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1110823502224751162005-03-15T01:38:00.000+08:002005-03-15T02:13:52.893+08:00

Contrary to previous schematics, I will not be leaving the country. At least not yet. While coming to some (transitory) conclusion was a (momentary) relief, I find myself thinking if this outcome was really worth all that. "That" ..being something I choose not to or render unnecessary for delineation here.Suffice to say [here enters the convenient generalisation], when twenty-somethings are

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1110562829158713722005-03-11T23:37:00.000+08:002005-03-12T01:40:29.160+08:00

'For me, words on a page give the world coherence... Words tell us what we as a society, believe the world to be... I believe there is an ethic of reading, a responsibility in how we read, a commitment that is both political and private in the act of turning the pages. And I believe that sometimes, beyond the author's intentions and beyond the reader's hopes, a book can make us better and wiser.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1110377584366790192005-03-09T21:57:00.000+08:002005-03-09T22:13:04.366+08:00

photo credit: JBBut Ebony is one fine exception. In case it wasn't obvious enough, here she's trying to be a bee.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1110296849026347272005-03-08T22:14:00.000+08:002005-03-08T23:49:20.173+08:00

Otherwise, you might find it generically interesting if & when visiting indigenous peoples in South America. My lecturer was telling me about when he and his wife were missionaries to the Kecha Indians in Bolivia. We're talking supremely poor rural villages on the outskirts of rainforests. They were married there and served at a time when men were in dire need of work. As part of their

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1110290812146326352005-03-08T22:02:00.000+08:002005-03-08T22:06:52.146+08:00

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1109873982564087502005-03-04T01:54:00.000+08:002005-03-04T02:22:18.510+08:00

In the further most corner of our backyard is the most unruly vine-y hedge of small purple bell-shaped flowers. I'm unfamiliar with the english term for them but I'm told in Holland they're called liefandeman (sp?) which (loosely) translated means love for, or of the man. According to folklore, one is supposed to take the flower, close one's eyes, dream intensely about their lover and throw it

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1109743300831235262005-03-02T13:09:00.000+08:002005-03-08T23:14:14.813+08:00

(a) keeping this site's PG rating and (b) maintaining some (oh please, any) standard of writing, recent posts have been removed.The motivation for (a) is because I recently found out my pious Canadian cousin's 15 year old son found this space and his mother is unimpressed by the nature of certain comments. Succumbing to censorship is one thing, underestimating the exposure of adolescents to sex

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1109243598507941652005-02-25T23:57:00.000+08:002005-02-26T00:41:38.816+08:00

"What kind of a world do you think is suitable for love?" I asked. Mr Nyazi's hand darted up. "We don't have time for love right now," he said. "We are committed to a higher more sacred love."Larrin turned around and said sardonically, "Why else do you fight a revolution?"

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1109006244303180552005-02-22T01:55:00.000+08:002005-02-22T02:18:37.663+08:00

The notification arrived today. I didn't really know how to tell my parents. So I just came out with it. Ever since finishing thesis, all I've done is deal with neverending bureaucracy. Migration agents, lawyers, university administration both for personal and professional purposes... I'm beyond sick of it (ironically I have strategic resources committee and university senate meetings

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1108923831477971112005-02-20T23:28:00.000+08:002005-02-22T02:22:47.033+08:00

Objective: To determine if subject has divulged or discussed details inappropriate for public consumption. Hypothesis: After exhaustive clandestine conversation, the subject is confused and unable to recall or differentiate between comments that were legitimately exchanged between the two of you and that which were obtained by alternative means.Comment: Best results when inappropriate details

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1108743784574928382005-02-18T23:37:00.000+08:002005-02-21T03:07:04.496+08:00

My newlywed cousin, Otto and his wife Noni became pregnant last year. All excited, they had booked into their first ultrasound appointment. The attendant offered them a print out of their little baby.All excited, my cousin took the first ever foto of his child to have it laminated. But when he collected it, the process had reacted with his foto.And he was left with a laminated piece of black

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1108747360893923982005-02-18T11:21:00.000+08:002005-02-19T01:23:20.520+08:00

I've been meaning to put an update on the Jamaican chess champion from Christmas. Last time he was seen was when P & I were entertainng Aditya and Akshay who were in town for the new year. I found out that he had raised AU$11,000 since the Xmas shopping season. And counting. Crazy. But he didn't look as cute as I remembered.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1108364387757108522005-02-14T13:50:00.000+08:002005-02-16T02:12:30.376+08:00

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1108229419688942952005-02-12T22:47:00.000+08:002005-02-13T03:15:57.090+08:00

Do you not find that writing about the present is infinitely more difficult than writing about the past? Sort of in the way that the social phobic resorts to small talk in the attempt to avoid meaningful conversation (confrontation). For that reason perhaps, I've avoided posting in this space because it would be more composte-worthy than usual. My words and sense hang together like the

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1107926909034000732005-02-09T11:08:00.000+08:002005-02-09T14:17:53.973+08:00

My favourite sms so far: "Welcome to the Year of the Cock" ironically from one of my asian femo girlfriends. The same one who does Tom Cruise / Frank TJ Makkey impressions and makes me pretend to be her lesbian lover everytime we go to the Red Sea to freak out her bouncer exbf who works there. Hence, explaining why I never go to the Red Sea anymore. So... yes. Happy New Year.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1107192488351751242005-01-31T23:24:00.000+08:002005-02-03T06:38:00.770+08:00

Does anyone recall this really 90's film starring Brendan Fraser and Joe Pesci? Fraser plays this cocky bastard of an honours student who loses the only copy of his thesis to the hobo man who 'lives' in the Harvard library (Pesci). Long story short, he gets it back only to realise he doesn't 'believe' in it anymore and ends up rewriting his dissertation overnight. All inspired by the witty

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1106934817415805232005-01-28T17:50:00.000+08:002005-01-29T04:29:19.606+08:00

This morning's journal entry: It is 04:27 on the 28th day of the first month of this allegedly 'new' year. I don't know about anyone else but things from where I'm sitting still feel pretty old. My thesis is due in 12 hours and I'm still writing here in the post-graduate lab. My final conclusion chapter and abstract to go but I couldn't be happier than if I'd already handed my paper in.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1105666845477159382005-01-14T09:32:00.000+08:002005-01-14T09:51:14.053+08:00

Well I can't seem to do anything right. Following another (well-meaninged) charge against my postings, here is my retort: Go on, just try and complain about this hunny.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1105579121328611192005-01-13T08:31:00.000+08:002005-01-13T10:40:22.776+08:00

In another lifetime, another generation, another ethos, I believe people took the 'growing old together' concept quite literally. Last year, I told a friend that those myths you hear about one elderly partner passing and the other following suit not long after, was perhaps the epitome of true love. As if they had no other will to exist after their love had died. Like a natural resignation.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1105488864226791212005-01-11T13:48:00.000+08:002005-01-13T08:12:11.806+08:00

Sometimes I find such liberation in making blatantly judgmental statements, particularly in the jurisdiction of this space, so much so that I don't really mind what it does or doesn't do for people. However, some of my right-wingèd comrade(s) have complained about my interpretation of Gonzales' pro-torture stand from the last post. Warning: this is a concessional and they're not really

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1105216352788016872005-01-09T04:28:00.000+08:002005-01-09T04:40:44.483+08:00

The rest of the world probably already knows this but I just found out that Bush's newly appointed Attorney General, Alberto Gonzales advocates torture as a legitimate government policy!! Nice legacy. I didn't think you could get any worse than Ashcroft but I seem to be proven wrong about a lot of things these days. You never know, his karaoke might be better.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1105023088358167262005-01-06T22:14:00.000+08:002005-01-07T00:31:42.296+08:00

Checking my email is driving me completely distracted. Five out of the 7 emails I opened a minute ago were courtesy of friends travelling in as diverse and far away places as the US, Mexico, Italy, Kenya, Singapore. The latter is mainly because everyone's home at the moment anyway and that's normal for summer. But when reading the witness of a pride of lions tearing away at a water buffalo

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1104773826869557622005-01-04T01:32:00.000+08:002005-01-04T04:37:17.776+08:00

I'm not quite sure why people get cranky when there aren't any updates here. Like I have anything relevant to say anyway. Having said that, I do apologise to those I should see but haven't seen. Those with whom I should've spent new years but didn't. Those whose calls I haven't returned and coffees still outstanding. There have been some rather interesting developments of late, but for the

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1104774733877871832005-01-03T23:39:00.000+08:002005-01-04T02:09:38.526+08:00

Jan 03: I have a new research assistant and her name is mom. At 4:47 am, she says "hey, we have left-wing tonight" Was she referring to cooking chicken? Reading too many of my partisan texts? Nope, The West Wing. Oh dear. My mother is turning out conservative jokes on me. This is a bad sign. = Jan 01: I've been feeling particularly imbecilic of late. The thesis is a leech and it

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1104334624423065522004-12-29T23:01:00.000+08:002004-12-29T23:37:04.423+08:00

There's nothing to say that hasn't already been said. From the BBC reporter's log: Rachel Harvey : Bandah Aceh, Indonesia : 1315 GMT There's a slightly surreal feel here sometimes. There are still bodies littering the streets and people are just walking past them. It's not that they're dispassionate I don't think - it's just that they can't deal with it and absorb what's happening and they have

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1103997009369809602004-12-26T03:14:00.000+08:002004-12-26T04:01:11.600+08:00

Why? Because I have around 2,500 tracks - most of which I've never heard - stuffed in my iTunes. Mainly Damien's. I am apprehensive since the time I had to turn off 'randomise' while studying cause out of nowhere, the Russian national anthem started blarring. Enough of my blabber. Do it. Here are mine. Instructions: Fire up your music player. Load your music collection. List the first ten

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1103821936292079542004-12-24T01:09:00.000+08:002004-12-24T01:36:05.896+08:00

What else could say merry Xmas like it. The sign alongside said something about a 3 minute chess game in exchange for donations. I thought it was a really funky idea. Kind of like the giant chessboard in Hyde Park (the Sydney one) so it was understandable to see a queue around the man belonging to these signs. We watched Kenny put change in his box before I realised how young and cute the guy

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1103705948223090662004-12-22T17:07:00.000+08:002004-12-22T17:29:08.223+08:00

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before? Not succeed in doing something I dislike. I know that sounds weird but usually I make an extra effort to kick its ass but this time it kicked mine. 2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions and will you make more for next year? Nope. Never have. Never will. Or if I do, I forget them after all the drinking on NYE. 3. Did

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1103707609514940512004-12-22T15:19:00.000+08:002004-12-23T23:27:22.076+08:00

Phantom of the Opera is not frickin opera people!!!! It drives me insane when people go on about it. Not because I think it's a bad production, and not because it's english and popularised an otherwise ignored art-form. But because they have obviously never listened to Madame Butterfly or La Traviata or dammit, anything Puccini. Cause if they have they would hear him rolling in his grave as

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1103571617489683372004-12-21T03:16:00.000+08:002004-12-21T04:59:47.576+08:00

My mom is preparing to teach next year at the Montessori school by sitting in on the final weeks of classes. We were out Friday night eating Jap food and she tells us little anecdotes about these super bright four and five year old kids who she'll be taking for Indonesian. Most of them have had pretty accelerated, or “unconventional” upbringings. This one boy’s parents are a little bohemian so

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1103572735770635692004-12-20T10:58:00.000+08:002004-12-21T04:01:44.280+08:00

You know how there are moments in your existence that you just think of and your insides just cringe like a prune? That's like my entire life story.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1102960166412448832004-12-14T01:23:00.000+08:002004-12-14T01:49:26.413+08:00

So, I'm telling a friend this story right, about going to his yr 12 ball (5 years ago folks, I am not a cradle snatcher) and literally being about 5 tables away from him but having no idea who he was at the time, and how I went to my ball with a guy from his school who graduated a few years before him. J: So what's his name? N: Umm, well... we knew each other quite well. J: C'mon who was he?

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1102616041259907392004-12-09T17:07:00.000+08:002004-12-10T18:00:05.126+08:00

Last month, I was interviewed & featured in an unfortunately sizable foto on the cover of a particular weekly feature section of a certain national newspaper for an article about a recent survey of Oz & NZ graduates and their attitudes toward the tightening Australian job market. I will be the first to admit that photogeneity is so not my department. But this particular foto I was especially

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1102519761452721212004-12-08T22:34:00.000+08:002004-12-09T00:04:51.786+08:00

That reminds me, where can you get f--- you* boots for xmas?

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1102317557710905702004-12-04T23:54:00.001+08:002004-12-06T15:19:17.710+08:00

Don't ask me why, but I was reading an interview with prince william recently in which he admitted that he had one month to write another 8,500 words of his 10,000 word masters dissertation about some turtles that live on some island. This reassured me for all of 10 seconds at which point I did my math and calculated that I have about a month for 10,000 of the 15,000 words that are supposed to

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1101991340487033972004-12-01T14:34:00.000+08:002004-12-02T20:42:20.486+08:00

November has always been my favourite calendar month. Even if a lot of it is spent on exams, being officially broke from all the present-giving thus resorting to home-made projects you try and finish in time for December, and even if it flashes by like an overzealous moon streaking across a fever pitch. The phonecalls and sms'es that registered on my mobile after midnight on the 30th kept me

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1101887969703316902004-11-29T23:06:00.000+08:002005-01-29T04:05:04.800+08:00

Z & I left the ECU Mt Lawley campus at around 8pm tonight - an hour after everyone else had left. Five minutes down Alexander Drive, someone reminded me to look forward to tomorrow and I wanted to throw up but instead inexplicably burst into tears. ____ Today, I requested for the room where one year and six months ago, I delivered my final branch convenor's report to the NLC West branch

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1100891748770538072004-11-24T17:56:00.000+08:002004-11-24T18:02:47.266+08:00

When I'm in the dumps, I occasionally feel the need to draw smiley faces on my knee(s). I dropped this habit after highschool I think but at the time my in-the-dumps partner was usually my pa and I would take to drawing tiny smiley faces on him too as he was trying to impart his comforting words of wisdom. These smileys annoyed him so he'd wrinkle up his face. "'Nak! Jangaaaan..." But he

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1101063861493281582004-11-22T03:00:00.000+08:002004-11-22T03:17:01.790+08:00

You were kickass before & you're just all that more kickass now hunny. Maybe more so. Cause with age, you know, comes grumpy. And with grumpy, you know, more violent. And whatever, I miss it ok. Happy now? xox Happy (slightly belated) Birthday.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1101055125443559512004-11-22T02:57:00.000+08:002004-11-22T03:14:17.503+08:00

This year seems to be the year of the wedding. Friends of mine, Andy & Xian Lin were married in Jakarta this September but I wasn't able to make it. They work in Singapore but were down last Saturday to hold a thanksgiving service & dinner party in Perth. As usual, I was a poor judge of time & commitment and was still having a pint with P & Fon in Little Creatures (our boutique brewery by the

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1100887386298582862004-11-20T02:03:00.000+08:002004-11-20T03:16:35.046+08:00

A letter arrived in the mail yesterday from a photography studio that took fotos for us a number of years ago. They were clearing their laboratory to make room for 2005 files, they said. After December 2nd, all remaining negatives will be discarded unless we wished to purchase them and conserve the images & memories forever. I have no inclination to do so. It's the same with growing up I

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1100363758638595522004-11-13T23:48:00.000+08:002004-11-14T01:27:58.296+08:00

I took a major gamble on the last exam of my entire undergraduate/honours career and told my father of my illogical study strategy. He held my hand as I was about to go to the law lecture theatre, paused for a moment before releasing it and said, I prayed for you all this week and I just prayed that your gamble pays off. It didn't pay off. And I spent the first 10 minutes of this 80% exam

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1100103431787320282004-11-10T23:43:00.000+08:002004-11-12T15:27:03.450+08:00

Did I mention self-absorbed student politicians are almost certainly the source of the scum that clogs my toilet drains? Have you checked your plumbing lately? My plunger gave it hell. Should clear up by tomorrow morning.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1099908490437436982004-11-08T17:25:00.000+08:002004-11-08T18:08:10.436+08:00

Before my pa went into foreign service, he was a bit of a preacher man in the US. But he delivered his first ever sermon in Indonesian last Sunday. He told me about it two days before when he picked me up from the airport. He also knows as a general rule, I don't go to his sermons. I find them patronising and a little dogmatic. In real life, he's not like that at all. Just when there's a

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1099643015161370412004-11-05T14:45:00.000+08:002004-11-05T16:25:42.326+08:00

When it nears the hour when either he or I voluntarily get abducted by a Qantas 737-300, he goes into denial mode, trying hard to be as normal and nonchalant as possible. And like a man, he waits until he is/I am gone before dealing. I meanwhile, try to soak up as much of him as I can. Get emotional before we part then get into the plane/car and sleep it off. But I still haven't mastered my

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1099638026357055992004-11-05T14:33:00.000+08:002004-11-05T16:31:26.486+08:00

Upon my 7am (WST) arrival in Perth, queezy as I was, I was greeted by a barrage of phonecalls from my department asking about the marking I'd submitted, NUS West related concerns about cheques, people I am supposed to see today, and people I was supposed to see in Melbourne. I am so sorry. I lost my brain somewhere in the airspace between Mt Isa and Kalgoorlie. ___ This is a big fat APOLOGY

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1099576101238650232004-11-04T20:46:00.000+08:002004-11-05T14:33:35.480+08:00

Tedy's asleep on his brown corduroy, cat-fur-covered beanbag. I want to wake him up the exact same way he disturbs his cat Chester - by jumping on the plumped up side of the bag, scaring the bejeezus out of the occupant and causing their bums to leap off & land abruptly on the carpet to the side. But I won't. Around 5:00 this morning, we watched Kerry's full concession speech on cspan;

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1099249625460491582004-11-01T02:54:00.000+08:002004-11-01T03:07:05.460+08:00

literally. Cause just when you're in swotvac and need every minute available to cram stuff into your head, the world just takes away the October 31st minutes between 02:00 and 02:59. I guess I shouldn't mind so much seeing as I get to spend the remaining minutes with some gorgeous & frustrating guy and when I take the four hour ride across the country, I'll be compensated those 60 minutes.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1098988104804329722004-10-29T02:15:00.000+08:002004-10-29T02:28:24.803+08:00

and I haven't packed yet. Maybe because I'm just waiting for someone to give me a guilt trip already. But no one seems to want to. "Melbourne? Hey, have loads of fun ok! And call me if you need notes." Nope, I seem to be the only one who thinks you should feel guilty for being happy. Hmm... nevertheless, smiles all round :)

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1098816363737153162004-10-27T02:33:00.000+08:002004-10-27T02:46:03.736+08:00

A really wise woman once told me: There is no right or wrong. There are only consequences. I look forward to the next 24 hours of muted chaos & deadlines. If only for that moment when you really don't give a rat's heinee anymore. I am also tossing up whether to go to Melbourne this weekend. But I should not be oblivious to it being the cusp of exams.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1098817149934591992004-10-26T23:46:00.000+08:002004-10-27T02:59:09.933+08:00

While watching Australian Idol this weekend, I saw my old primary school. In the 80s, Maroubra Junction Primary School was the best thing that could happen to an only child. I never wanted it to end. It took me a while to figure out why that crest looked so familiar and why a little asian girl with pigtails reminded me of une petite mechante I once knew. I wish I were still her. I wish I

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1098517953537227882004-10-23T15:39:00.000+08:002004-10-23T17:39:39.240+08:00

I hate exams. Especially when you already know you're going to fail them cause you don't see much point in what you're "learning". I'll be a hairdresser named Shazza in Vic Park before I'd become an economist. So why are you at uni, Naomi.. if not for the hot guys and anonymous booze-ups? That's right! To mark more sucky essays. Not long after I finished marking the first round of second

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1098093138622640282004-10-18T17:09:00.000+08:002004-10-18T17:52:18.623+08:00

I was attacked by an accutely lucid moment of deja vu while on the phone with the boy last night. I don't know the technicalities about this phenomenon but my understanding is one 'foresees' the exact moment, scenario, details & all some period before it actually happens so that when it does and you remember the premonition, you almost wet your pants. But thankfully, don't. At the end of

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1097954934428444402004-10-17T00:12:00.000+08:002004-10-17T03:49:21.923+08:00

Upon arrival at Cottesloe Beach, Huey Ying drags out her mini sleeping bag and informs me (in a more direct way than she -claims- to have done already) that we were spending the night there. Why, I don't know... Huey Ying says something along the lines of yoga & energy from the ocean before proceeding to 'nap' for a large part of our stay. Nic shrugs at the supplies she's sponsored (mooncake,

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1097858525530301892004-10-16T00:24:00.000+08:002004-10-16T00:42:05.530+08:00

They're early. Nic & Huey Ying just rocked up for our midnight rendez-vous to Cottesloe. Actually, they told me 1 am and this may be the first time they've been early... and just when I was settling down to post. HY's dressed like we're going to Antarctica. I should go get changed. And rescue them from my mother's interogations as to why twenty-somethings seem to think the day starts so

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1097579204534166642004-10-12T18:44:00.000+08:002004-10-12T19:06:44.533+08:00

My lecturer saw me in class for the first time in about... oh... 6 weeks. He's a bit of a teddy bear but the look on his face was not teddy-like. He allegedly downgraded my assignment to a distinction due to the lack of one expansion in one of my lines of calculation and an equality where an implication sign should have been - in amongst two pages of hard core calculus. Gimme a break. Still

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1097479795766559972004-10-11T14:38:00.000+08:002004-10-11T15:29:55.766+08:00

Others will have got over it far quicker than I did. Two days ago, the Australian Labor Party fought the good fight but failed to secure the mandate of the Australian public. It's taken me two days to get over it. It stung so much more because: (a) everyone felt Latham had a real fighting chance; an outside chance but a damn good outside chance (b) people -knew- Howard lied to them about

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1097177451752168272004-10-08T02:41:00.000+08:002004-10-08T03:33:45.196+08:00

It defeats the whole purpose of teaching when you only wake up 35 minutes before you take a 9 am tutorial. Which is why after that 45 minutes of the worst education, I come home to sprawl like dead duck on my heated, totally dead-duck sprawlable double mattress only to regain consciousness later in the day where I have to repeat the same process. In the time in between, I also managed to mark

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1096815490180692692004-10-03T23:00:00.000+08:002004-10-04T00:40:19.506+08:00

The minutes between 02:42 and 04:25 this morning were spent watching an online stream of the first US Presidential Debate between Senator Kerry and well... you know who. Despite having heard most of it on BBC radio, the visuals were worth the 90 minute struggle with cspan & a dialup connection. Every Bush-can't-start-a-sentence-without-a-prompter moment. There were two reasons I needed to see

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1096737223606638682004-10-02T23:57:00.000+08:002005-02-26T01:14:03.626+08:00

Tonight, Mom, Huey Ying & I sat down to an ever exhilarating episode of Iron Chef. The show has three stalwart 'iron chefs', one of whom is selected by an expert 'challenger chef' for an hour-long head to head battle to create a minimum of three dishes to impress three celebrity judges. It's huge in Japan. And almost every week, the challenger, usually working in foreign conditions, finds it a

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1096705504734446082004-10-02T16:16:00.000+08:002004-10-02T16:27:37.336+08:00

They have this look like they're seeing a yetti in amongst a gaggle of geese. The yetti being me (although I flatter myself, I'm nowhere near that tall). And the rest of Northbridge being the geese. Actually, that's probably too favourable an analogy. Especially for the encounter just now, where there was no gaggle to speak of because we were two solitary beings crossing each other's path at

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1096215234787375332004-09-26T23:33:00.000+08:002004-09-27T02:40:57.366+08:00

"There's still a little bit of your ghost; your weakness. There's still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed." Cannonball, Damien Rice. The boy flew back to Melbourne only yesterday. But it feels like he left eons ago. I will say this much though, the last seven days made me feel happier than I remember. To mark the great void in the happiness department that his departure made, my

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1095789548660883122004-09-22T01:58:00.000+08:002004-09-29T01:57:15.870+08:00

I have had the pleasure of a most blissful distraction for the past three days and will continue to be preoccupied with him for the next few. I could promise updates but in all honesty, don't know how publicly interesting they would be. He seems much more interested in hanging out at my house than anything else. We revel in the mundane. Like going to mass on Sunday. Like going for walks

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1095495726315591952004-09-18T16:04:00.000+08:002004-09-25T23:20:14.996+08:00

Ethan is a skinny wee four year old chinky indo boy. My dog, Tarzan, is an 84 year old big black labrador retriever x. Ethan only likes original flavour but probably cause he hasn't been allowed to eat anything else. Tarz likes anything, eats everything. Ethan has a multitude of insightfully honest comebacks that don't involve obscenities - kind of like a mini-male version of Rory Gilmore.

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1095259183930496312004-09-15T23:59:00.000+08:002004-09-29T01:58:28.363+08:00

I feel I should put a Barry White record on or something. Get a room. Or a tree with leafy foliage. One of my favourite things to watch and fall asleep to is Wes Anderson's The Royal Tenenbaums. This is no slight to the greatness of this film. To explain: I come home from a wretched social existence, saturate my tea with milk, turn on the heater placing it strategically too close to the

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1095266962713572562004-09-15T23:45:00.000+08:002004-09-16T00:49:22.713+08:00

When I was younger, younger than before I never saw the truth hanging from the door And now I'm older see it face to face And now I'm older gotta get up clean the place. And I was green, greener than the hill Where the flowers grew and the sun shone still Now I'm darker than the deepest sea Just hand me down, give me a place to be. And I was strong, strong in the sun I thought I'd see when day

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1094838121663679062004-09-14T16:05:00.000+08:002004-09-16T00:16:31.716+08:00

Last night, I sat through my second ever university ceremony and my third in Winthrop Hall. #1 In the summer of 1999, after the astonishing non-effects of leavers (schoolies) wore off, my year 12 schoolmates & I donned our ridiculous stockings, valedictory ties and oversized blazers and piled into the hallowed halls below the UWA clock tower to receive a piece of paper that read 'completion of

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1094581234316078982004-09-08T02:22:00.000+08:002004-09-08T02:24:17.090+08:00

Two nights ago, I doodled the numbers six to 18 on a paper napkin because I needed an objective view of what a fortnight should be like. It feels infinitely too long. Today, I was berated by a complete stranger who was clearly torn between his need to express disgust at my 2 previous cancellations and his professional duty to listen to me for 15 minutes straight (if its not obvious enough,

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1094413135577283502004-09-06T01:01:00.000+08:002004-09-06T16:59:47.556+08:00

The Iraqi refugee family I taught some years back have been offered Permanent Residency (PR) in Australia!! And they're TPV holders! Not unjustified in light of the events back home but such a blessing all the same. Ghada and her three kids were released from an 18-month captivity in Port Hedland detention centre towards the end of 2000. To politik or not to politik At the time, the lies

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1094302196511970832004-09-04T20:44:00.000+08:002004-09-06T00:01:29.796+08:00

I and the public know What all schoolchildren learn, Those to whom evil is done Do evil in return. September 1, 1939 by W.H. Auden

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1093890235662863362004-08-31T02:17:00.000+08:002004-08-31T02:23:55.663+08:00

Its only midnight but I have been asleep since saturday evening so it doesn't feel like anything else but dark... although someone informs me that it is midnight on a Tuesday. (Where did the weekend go?) Worse still, I just had the most hazed out horrible nightmare which I will attribute largely to significant intakes of sudoephedrine, paracetamol and other cold & flu substances. First instinct

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1093775758321403362004-08-29T18:38:00.000+08:002004-08-29T18:35:58.320+08:00

Those of you who have been to my house and met my mother will immediately recognise two things: (i) She doesn't believe anyone who enters her house should ever leave it without consuming something. Anything. Everything. (ii) She is a great advocate of all manner of pharmaceuticals. The combination of the two can be somewhat dangerous when you are in a state of infirmity as I am at this very

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1093543462977492352004-08-27T01:22:00.000+08:002004-08-27T02:04:22.976+08:00

There are very few times I actually like what I write in this space. In fact, there are very few times I like anything that can be credited to my authorship. That might explain why something might appear on this site for some 6, 25 or 0.5 hours before it will disappear without much more than flicker of the refresh button on your browser. It may also explain why my th*s*s wordcount fluctuates

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1093286695590820942004-08-24T02:44:00.000+08:002004-08-24T03:07:43.500+08:00

University Senate met yesterday evening to decide on the introduction of domestic undergraduate full fee places at UWA. It passed with a vote of 13-7 with other supplementary motions I'm too upset to outline here. Bloody frickin hell. And I know as a (would-be) senator I should be more articulate about the whole affair but I have never been gagged in a situation where some rich old white

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1093112894914395762004-08-22T02:16:00.000+08:002004-08-22T02:32:41.700+08:00

Oprah, the enlightened deity of daytime tv, once asked a couple whose marriage had lasted 50 years what their secret was. They never fell out of love at the same time, the wife replied. My parent's are only half way there. Yesterday morning, they both came into my room to wake me up and sit on my bed to just talk about general shit that's happening in each other's lives. Dad was going to

juzhennoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271088.post-1093109962419540502004-08-21T23:15:00.001+08:002004-08-22T02:16:27.763+08:00

Every so often, a film comes along to entice the 'beacons of societal decency' out of their dank cave dwellings into the less traversed (and thus perverse) path of underground cinema to cry "for shame" in the name of all that is good & pure in humanity. Before I was even of working age (14 years 7 months in Australia) let alone old enough to watch R-rated movies, there was the Cronenberg piece

juzhennoreply@blogger.com