finde_siecle

or rather...some odd permutation of it.

When you're annoyed, everything looks like its really out to annoy you. I just knew that after a high of ingrid michaelson songs, nothing would ever compare. Facebook really needs to stop hanging so my 144 photos of my oxford trip can be uploaded.


Ingrid Michaelson was love. Her vocals are maddening and...to quote her, 'my head fucking exploded'. I don't believe there's any better way to describe how awed I was by the time I reached the end.

1. She invited someone on stage to sing with her. A member of the audience. Fantastic.
2. I dig her glasses.
3. She actually does a pretty good job of the English accent.
4. She sang all her songs acoustic with either piano or guitar and one back-up singer...but she sounded more amazing than when recorded. That's how good she is.
5. Her rendition of 'Can't Help Falling in Love' just killed me. That is, after I heard Greg Lasky's (goodness I don't even know his name, this is probably an inaccurate spelling of it) version of 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'.
6. Her banter with the audience was lovely.
7. Every one of her songs had sing-a-long parts for the audience which I absolutely adore.
8. She did a double encore. DOUBLE.
9. I can't count the number of times she told us how much she loved this audience.
10. Her duet with the Greg person was so cute, I couldn't help staring at the hand that was around his waist. And the fact that they shared the same mike was just...romantic.
11. She sang Maybe the Mexican Food Version. Which actually managed to sound really good despite being funny. The wonders of Ingrid Michaelson.

I intended to follow-up the report on Ingrid Michaelson with a report on Oxford but I'm darned lazy so please check out the photos to get a blow-by-blow account of what we did in Oxford at least on the first day when my camera still had battery. Anyway the second day was shopping at Bicester, where there was no need to take pictures, just focus on buying the stuff there hehe.


I'm calling it a night...or rather (since its 2am) a morning.

I honestly expected nothing from the Bell X1 concert. In fact there were moments before I attended the concert when I was asking myself if paying £15 when I only truly loved one song from them is really worth it. But I came out from Shepherd's Bush O2 feeling thoroughly happy and satisfied. Because songs like Blow-Ins, Bad Skin Day, Eve, The Great Defector, How Your Heart is Wired, Alphabet Soup, Flame just make my day. And the band sounds so amazing live because they are Bell X1. Being kiasu Singaporeans, we were waiting 2 hours for Bell X1 to appear and we had already booked our positions all the way at the front it felt like I could reach out and grab his ankles.


And when they sang Rocky Took a Lover, my heart melted. People who haven't heard the song, please do. The more I listen to it, the more I realize what an amazing wonder it is.

In other news, I have changed my layout because I am itchy-fingered and the ILS lecture was just WAY too boring. Sometimes I actually feel like she's trying to dig up stuff to teach us about, showing us random videos etc etc. Zhiwei was right in saying she was more like noise pollution.


Oxford this Saturday!! It won't be the same without Lyds but it's going to be fun anyway.




I am suffering from Bell X1 withdrawal symptoms like 2 hours after the concert.

Running in Regent's Park alone with Ingrid Michaelson blasting into my ears is amazingly therapeutic. For 1.5 hours I really forgot everything, forgot that I have 3 incomplete tutorials waiting for me to finish before Friday, forgot that I am missing my family quite terribly, forgot that I am spending too much money on food alone. And I was quite pleased that I didn't get lost on my way to the park.






I am going back.





Men of Snow (Ingrid Michaelson)

Once I made a man all out of snow
He had the darkest eyes and a button nose
I told him all my sadness and my fear
And he just listened with a snowy ear

But when I came around the next day
My friend had gone and melted all away
I saw his eyes lying on the ground
I made a sound that was something like crying

Oh, one day you will go away from this
Oh, one day you will know, we're men of snow, we melt one day

And winters come, and my love, winters go
And time stacks up in piles like winter snow
And everything you love and hold so dear
Won't really matter when we disappear

Oh, one day you will go away from this
Oh, one day you will know, we're men of snow, we melt one day


Because we are men of snow.

I feel like emo-ing.




But there's nothing for me to emo about.















So I have returned to sunshine and happiness :)

I actually forgot for a while, what it feels like to have a writer's block in the middle of essay and search around desperately for some sort of distraction before you claw your eyes out in frustration.



Yesterday, was my first clubbing event ever and it was on a boat. Which is way cool. And I suppose clubbing can be pretty fun if you're clubbing with people you know and guys who stand around you so no hobo comes near. The boat was amazing.


Okay, that was really intended to be a longer and more detailed experience about attempted dancing and dropping my coat on the floor and trying to find the elusive phantom but it suddenly occurred to me that 200 words of essay is not actually good enough to warrant a rest.



And so, I return, to the heart of darkness.

I watched Wicked and cried when they sang 'For Good'.



I miss the reightards.

The fact that I can title a post like that has got to be worrying.

1. I haven't gotten a mobile phone line because of various bank indiscrepancies.
2. I haven't finished buying all my various daily neccessities.
3. I move in in about three hours' time.
4. My LSE IT account is not set up.
5. I haven't even packed to move yet.


This is possibly the worst couple of days I have ever had. Its that in-between time where you're not exactly enjoying university life, neither are you home with the family couple of days. I just have that feeling that since nothing is confirmed yet, everything can go wrong.

In other news, shopping yesterday with dad for towels and bedsheets and winter stockings and sunglasses and pillows and vitamins. My bedsheet and duvet cover set is 20 pounds and its completely red. The best deal from BHS and the only thing my dad is willing to pay for. Towels were from John Lewis, WHERE I WANTED TO BUY MY BEDLINEN FROM but it was too expensive. But John Lewis's bedlinen is PRETTY TO THE MAX.

Okay, I shall go start preparing for the big move-in, and maybe start to take a few photos.

Two days to London. And I had the most embarrassing opening conversation with a school-mate.

He came on Facebook CHAT and we started chatting. I thought it kinda nice that I got to talk to someone before I actually reached London. He starts with complaining about the Canterbury Hall receptionist.

Him: by the way, the canterbury guy at the reception is really unhelpful. I called him to ask about whether I could book in earlier and he said it doesn't really matter which day you come as long as you pay for every extra night you stay there. Then I asked him what time was book-in and he asked me dude, exactly how many more questions do u want to ask?

Me: Omg he is so bloody rude you should just tell him off HELLO you're PAYING him to be THERE.

I suddenly realize that this is my second line after 'hello' to a stranger I barely know across the seas who has never seen me before. Not. Good. Start. So I try to make up for it and talk about London life. What I meant to ask was whether he had gotten his UK mobile number yet. It came out as...

Me: Hey do you have a number?

Him: Erh, yes. I have both a home number and a mobile number.

Silence as I take in how wrongly that came out. Seriously, Christabel, you're fantastic. Walk up to some random guy on the street HEY YOU GOTTA NUMBER? WANNA DO A LITTLE EXCHANGE? And, he's a Londoner, meaning my question was stupid right from the start. Time for a change of topic. And what do I ask?

Me: Hey, FB me your room number when you check in so I can pay you a visit!

Pauses. Disaster. DISASTER. PAY YOU A VISIT. WHUT? I change it to 'I mean, that way I can know if we're neighbours or not'. But really, HOW CAN WE BE NEIGHBOURS IF THE FLOORS ARE GENDER CLASSIFIED EH? MAYBE THIS GUY IS SECRETLY A GIRL, OR MAYBE I'LL GET DUMPED ON THE BOYS' FLOOR, HARH? What a great way to start the term. Now he thinks you're a crazy desperate, supremely fierce Asian girl. FEAR ME.



Phew, now that its out of my system...it's time to say goodnight.

I hate packing.
I hate writing farewell notes.
I hate going to the airport.
I hate crying.
I hate technology.
I hate LSE's IT Helpdesk.
I hate Facebook.


It's me against the world, darling.


And listening to the songs I put on Lichen's Farewell CD is just making me emo all over again. Well, Lichen, anytime you get online to see this, this song reminds me of you :)

Today has been a day of good stuff.

I have just returned from a strangely satisfying jog around the neighbourhood which concluded with a visit to pok's house on the next street. I ran 1.6km (this I know because the GPS tells me that it is 400m from my house to the main road so if I run that route 4 times up and down, I would have covered 1.6km). Okay, so some of you might view 1.6km as absolutely peanuts but for someone who has been immobile for a whole weekend and only attempted to start a jogging routine a week ago, it is a great achievement and bear with me while I engage in some self-congratulation.

And since this week has been US Open week, the TV has been switched on and my house has turned into a mini Flushing Meadows.

K.Clijsters		Arthur Ashe Stadium		6		0		6
V.Williams				0		6		4

YES. THIS. IS. LOVE.

And somebody should give Djokovic a warning letter. Throwing rackets and pulling a long face at court is Not Cool. At least all Gilles Simon did was curse in French and I could languish in ignorance.


I have officially ended Gossip Girl Season 2 after marathon-watching it and finishing it in 3 days. And here, I'd like to re-declare my love for dirty, sexy, bitchy Blair Waldorf. I planned to make a list of Blair Bites, but in the end the only one that I remembered was this.

If you cut 'revenge' out of the bible, you won't even get enough pages to make a pamphlet.

I think this quote is by far, my favourite.





You would not believe your eyes
If ten million fireflies
Lit up the world as I fell asleep
Cuz they fill the open air
And leave teardrops everywhere
You think me rude, but I would just stand and stare

I'd like to make myself believe
That planet earth turns slowly
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep
Cuz everything is never as it seems

Cuz I get a thousand hugs
From ten thousand lightning bugs
As they try to teach me how to dance
A foxtrot above my head
A sockhop beneath my bed
The disco ball is just hanging by a thread

To ten million fireflies
I'm weird cuz I hate goodbyes
I got misty eyes as they said farewell (said farewell)
But I know where several are
If my dreams get real bizarre
Cuz I saved a few and I keep 'em in a jar

Timbre yesterday was gorgeous and it just helped me reaffirm my hatred of alcohol and cocktails in general. The live band was so good I thought I was listening to a music CD. And the pizza was yummy. The company, as per usual, was fabulous.

I am going to miss the reightards so much I could cry.


In other news, today I sat down, suddenly beset by a huge sense of responsibility and did a lecture timetable for my first term at LSE.

Michaelmas Term
Time	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday
9:00 - 10:00
10:00 - 11:00	LL108 Criminal Law (Lec), Rm OT	LL104 Law of Obligations (Lec), Rm NABLG08
11:00 - 12:00				LL109 Intro to Legal Systems (Lec), Rm E171
12:00 - 13:00			LL106 Public Law (Lec), Rm NABLG08
13:00 - 14:00	LUNCH
14:00 - 15:00
15:00 - 16:00		LL104 Law of Obligations (Lec), Rm NABLG08
16:00 - 17:00	LL106 Public Law (Lec), Rm NABLG08
17:00 - 18:00
18:00 - 19:00
* First Crim Law Lec starts at 1100 - 1200
* Law of Obligations Lec only starts in Wk 2

Today, I finally got off my lazy bum and did a medical check-up. For which I wasted a whole morning from 9am till 12 at raffles hospital. I say this only because I'm going to spend the rest of the post complaining about the doctor.

HE IS SO DARNED OLD.

It wouldn't matter, really, if he was efficient. The point is, he wasn't.  He was SO BLOODY SLOW. There was a form that I brought there to have the doctor fill up, some medical form and he peered at it through glasses so thick, they magnify his eyes till he looks like a goldfish. Then using quavering hands, he asks me if I am mentally abnormal. After he takes two minutes to tick the box no, he asks me if I'm pregnant. I said yes and it takes him 2 minutes to look up and give me the shocked expression. You can't crack JOKES with this doctor because he takes 2 minutes to REACT to it, then another 2 minutes after you've told him the truth for him to LAUGH.

Then I go for my vaccinations, which was actually the part I feared the most about the medical check-up but by the time I actually exited the doctor's consultation room, I was so tired I just wanted to get it over and done with. Good news is, the vaccination nurse was very nice and very efficient. Bad news, it hurt like hell. The pain doesn't really come in when the needle goes in, it hurts when the liquid runs through. And even now as I'm typing, my both arms feel a little weak and numb. I feel a bit incapacitated.


I got an email from LSE about a students particulars form they want me to fill up with another TWO passport photographs. I think I have approximately 10 passport photographs of myself floating around LSE at this point. A month ago, the hall asked me to send in passport photographs, THREE of them, now they want TWO MORE. I don't understand this fetish of desperately wanting to know how I look like, DOES IT MATTER THAT MUCH? I mean, I can understand if you want to make sure you don't register the wrong person under Christabel Saw but why in bloody hell do you need so many? I spent FIFTEEN DOLLARS making myself passport photographs and now they're all gone. ALL GONE. I have NONE left, which means I have to go down and take MORE passport photographs and spend another FIFTEEN DOLLARS and goodness WHAT FOR?


I am obviously feeling quite bitchy today. Watching Gossip Girl Season 2 on end is not helping.

I have a very strange tendency. When people post and put stuff under cuts with disclaimers on the top, I always click the cut open to read what's inside. Always. The disclaimers encourage me.


That's a very scary thought.


LSE Camp this Sunday. After a very Failed Attempt At Socializing on Wednesday night, I'm suddenly not looking forward to it. Weird, isn't it? Usually you'll not be looking forward to a particular event, then suddenly feel all excited about it the night before. I'm doing it the other way round. I was pretty hyped up about it a month ago, and now all the enthusiasm is kind of fading.

Which is why, I'm willing myself not to be over-jumpy about Timbre night next Saturday so when I do come around to Friday night, I can enjoy having the butterflies in my stomach.

I cannot access facebook. And suddenly I feel as if I have lost my only connection with the world outside. Which explains why I come back to good, old, sturdy LJ where I can comment about my life in more than one line.

Today, I finally picked up the phone and called the clinic about the meningitis injection. The minute the words escaped my lips, the nurse asked wryly if I was also going to London. Emphasis on the word 'also'. Turns out, I was in luck. Somebody else called in for a meningitis injection and the clinic ordered a batch and had one left over, one dear injection just waiting for me to go get it. So happily, I made an appointment for next wednesday and happily scuttled off to tell my mother that I was finally taking charge of my own life...in her words. Then she gives me a briefly satisfied look and asks me whether I asked for a flu injection as well.


You see, I have a phobia of needles.


And, my mother knows that.


Which is exactly why come next Wednesday, I will be having the Worst Day Of My Life when I get two needles stuck into my arm one after the other. Well, side effects of both injections is that I might have swelling, slight numbness and possibly a fever. So on Thursday, do not call me for I'll be swollen, completely numb, and running a high fever.




On another note, I think I need more practice in the Art of Socializing. Yesterday night, the LSE Alumni organized a kind of get-together mixer where the freshers would mix once more with freshers who might not have joined the facebook group. And I just stood rooted to one spot talking to the same people. Conversations mostly went like, "Hey, my name is Christabel, you are...? Oh nice to meet you. Yes, isn't Harry's Bar a lovely place. So what are you studying? Where are you staying? When are you flying? Mm..." Then the conversation teeters off into oblivion. At which time, I humbly excuse myself for a chicken wing or two and take a surreptitious glance at my watch to figure out how long more I should stay trying to make small talk.


White Teeth is a very good book. Somehow, it always eluded me till now, when my brilliant sister borrowed it from the library, then promptly told me I only had three days to read it before she has to return it. Don't you love siblings. I think she does that so she, for once, gets the authority to pass me the hand-me-downs.

In other news, I have been browsing the provisional LSE timetable they put up on the website and found something that shocked me...two-hour lectures. I cannot sit still and pay attention for two hours. Ergo, I am dead.


Today, I tried my hand at cooking during lunch because in the morning, when all there is on the TV are housewifey talk shows, I watched Rachel Rae make this delicious looking Cobb Pasta. So I popped down to the supermarket and tried and its really yummy. And since I'm the one who cooked it and it still tasted yummy, it means it is idiot-proof and still turns out gorgeous in the end.


Okay, here was when I attempt to go on google and find the recipe, but it eludes me because internet is slow and facebook has failed so the world has crashed down so all this shall come from memory.


1. Preheat oven
2. Get bacon strips and put them in a grill pan and drizzle very little olive oil. Well, actually, Rachel Rae didn't even drizzle the olive oil just that if you don't do that it'll just burn on to your pan and you'll take eternity trying to get it clean. Bacon goes into the oven. Bacon should be turned over at appropriate intervals. Rachel Rae turned it over a few times. I, the lazy chef, turned it over once. It tasted as good.
3. Get cherry tomatoes, everything I measured agar-agar so as much as you think you'll need. Lay it out on the pan then drizzle with olive oil and chopped thyme and roll it around in a pan so its all coated. I didn't have enough grill pans, so I kind of just dunked the bacon onto the top rack (without any pan or base beneath it) and put the pan of tomatoes below in the oven. What probably happened was that the bacon juice dripped slowly into the cherry tomato pan, which might have contributed to the flavour...it was a eureka moment.
4. On the side, chop up flatleaf parsley, spring onions and sweet basil. THE BASIL, is tricky. Overseas, they probably only have more of the sweet basil. In Singapore you get two kinds of basil. One kind is SPICY. The last time I made a western dish I used the wrong basil and it tasted HORRID. Must get SWEET basil. The basil doesn't need to be chopped really fine. I was lazy so it ended up sliced more than anything else.
5. Boil the pasta. I used penne because I like penne but I suppose anything goes.
6. This part is optional. I was considering just leaving this one out because I could have pasta without chicken but in the end since the chicken was already bought I did it anyway. Put a pan on heat, a little oil, minimal really, then throw in the cut chicken cubes in and brown. Near the end, flavour with chilli sauce to your liking.
6. You'll know when the tomatoes are roasted when they open near the top and the skin of the tomatoes wrinkles a little. Then take them out and throw them in a huge mixing bowl and mash them. I adore this part because when you mash them your whole kitchen smells gorgeous. Then put the pasta on top and throw in the herbs, the chicken and top it all with shredded cheese. Rachel Rae used blue cheese but blue cheese stinks so I just used cold storage shredded mozzarella. Throw it all together while it's all hot so when you mix it around the cheese melts and its lip-smackingly tasty.
7. Chop up avocado and sprinkle on top and serve.

It's really simple. And I put it up here more for my own benefit really. Because come London, I want to at least be confident of making one thing.


Okay. It's 6pm. The sun is no longer shining too bright. This post is already getting too long. It is time for this fat little girl to go running.

Here's the plan:

I will Exercise to lose off a lot of Ungainly Fat by doing Daily Runs and Crunches.

I will Diet and abstain from Unhealthy Fattening Oily Foods.

I will Eat Fruits.



Gmail has an undo send button! Which is great that I only find out now after having sent off dozens of embarrassing addressed to the wrong person emails.

And I'm having headaches over settling my whole Three Years in London. I haven't taken a meningitis jab nor have I done a chest X-ray nor have I paid my school fees or finished my packing list. It's all a bit daunting isn't it, once you've had it all written out.



To Val: I want to put the packing list on a Google Doc like what Wenny said, once I'm done I'll send it to you and whoever else wants to be part of the fun!

This is what happens when you give Christabel a few free hours, a computer and old photographs.

Speaking of which, I really REALLY want photoshop. CHEAP photoshop. This was painstakingly simply done with no text because all I had was Microsoft Picture Manager and I ABHOR PAINT.

But ah...the memories.

   
   
   

TOMORROW someone needs to bring a camera and store MORE PHOTOS. Maybe I'll do the class photos as well...if I'm not lazy.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/north_yorkshire/8215805.stm

THIS is DAMN funny. The new British Railway Museum Director of 'Fun' is a 6-year-old boy called Sam Pointon.

HE IS VERY CUTE.

Facebook is depressing. Especially a facebook chock full of farewell photos of people I've never known in my life but I miss anyway.

Friends, please tell me when everyone is fluttering off to different corners of the earth so I may update my organizer and see you off at the airports. I would prefer if people didn't leave too close to each other, I really need time to dry off my tears, settle my emotions.

I have started formulating the semblance of a packing list. It's terrible. Very terrible. It just reminds me of how many things I have to buy, how many things I don't have, how many things I have to carry.

I recently learnt how to play 'leaving on a jetplane' on my guitar. Which was a very bad idea. Because now everyday I play that song to myself and feel sad and emo and all that shit.

Lich, on the day you leave I'll play you that song and cry like a cow.