one half - 881

A touching song by HYR and his band from a local Singaporean movie 881 by Roystan Tan.

BANANA & COCOA NIB PANCAKES

BANANA & COCOA NIB PANCAKES

1 cup whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup white flour
1 Tbs sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/4 cup whole milk (might need just a smidgen more)
l large ripe banana, mashed well
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 Tbs cocoa nibs
1/4 cup chopped pecans

Combine first 5 ingredients well in medium-sized mixing bowl. Add milk and vanilla, stirring until just blended. Add mashed banana and continue to mix until well incorporated. Fold in cocoa nibs and pecans, reserving a small amount of each for garnish. Heat a lightly greased skillet or griddle over medium heat. Pour batter onto griddle in 1/4 cup amounts and cook until bubbles form on top and edges begin to dry. Flip and cook until just golden brown.

Serve with butter and syrup if desired, garnishing with reserved cocoa nibs and pecans.

Woah... i feel like eating this suddenly. lol.. making it now at 2.47am? haah . maybe not..

Virtual Bartender

Thinking of having a cocktail or glass of wine in the middle of the night or
during a party but do not have a bartender around your home bar?
There is a solution to it!

This would some cool gadget for you to install at your home bar
as your own personal server cum bartender
that knows exactly what you like because
you can programme it specifically to your taste.

The My Fountain can store and dispense up to
16 chilled liquids, including mixers, liquors, concentrates and other beverages
and dole out both single liquids or drinks based on recipes that have been programmed.
Put in your mixers, liquors and other beverages and the machine
can dole out both single liquids or drinks based on recipes.

To have the perfect home bar, you should also get the Enomatic as well,
which you could choose any wine served perfectly under preserved condition
and not worrying about finishing an opened choice to hope for anther.
With this two choices, you could definitely have an own automated bar
that serves your 24/7 !! Wonderful isn't? lol..

Guess the age of the writer and share your thoughts..

I'm sorry for the length of this essay as its 2000 words. But I would love you to guess the age of the writer and hopefully could leave me your thoughts.

The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned her not to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.' Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand. 'Finance' 'Liquidation' 'Assets' 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it. Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.

The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval. 'I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!' Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation. 'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat. The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter. 'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switching to Mandarin. 'I have a big client in America. There have been a lot of problems.' The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important. Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried the same cryptic look. The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerful digital tune, which broke the awkward silence.

'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn't name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how an English name was very important for 'networking', Chinese ones being easily forgotten. 'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take the ancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.' Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother's silence meant she did not comprehend. 'Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!' The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence. The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall. Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother's side. 'Ma, I'll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,' she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense. The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick; she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods. Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a young woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook. Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man. Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says. She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success. What you see is not true; she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault. The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.

Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt joss stick into an urn of smouldering ashes. She bowed once more. The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son. Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb, bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had kicked and punched her for producing a useless baby who could not work or carry the family name. Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything she ever wanted. Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man. She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with ‘nengkan’; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen. She will not be like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood. She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl, to one who openly defied her, calling her ‘laotu’; old-fashioned. She wanted her mother to be 'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it. Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl's roots and now she stood, faceless, with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes. Her daughter had forgotten her mother's values. Her wants were so ephemeral; that of a modern woman. Power, Wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques, and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less. When her daughter left the earth everything she had would count for nothing.

People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman, but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions. The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes and prayers for her daughter; now she had only one want: That her daughter be happy. She looked out of the temple gate. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to go from there down. The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she was enslaved to and worshipped every day of her life. Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty soulless shell at the altar. The old lady watched her joss tick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.

Modern woman nowadays, the old lady sighed in resignation, as she bowed to the east one final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder why they cannot find it. Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etched on her daughter's face. An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sow the seeds of happiness. They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not as fast as she had done before.'Ma,' Bee Choo finally said. 'I don't know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyer willing to pay seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road. Once we move in to our apartment we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves ...’ the old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. 'We'd get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out - but once the maid is gone, there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfully lonely at home and, besides that, the apartment is rather small. There won't be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There's one near Hougang - it's a Christian home, a very nice one.' The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. 'I've been there; the matron is willing to take you in. Its beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to keep you company! I hardly have time for you, you'd be happier there.' 'You'd be happier there, really.' Her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself. This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offerings to cling tightly to; she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag, and her fingers trace the white seat.

'Ma?' her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother. 'Is everything okay?' What had to be done, had to be done. 'Yes,' she said firmly, louder than she intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added more quietly. 'It's for you, Ma! You'll be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine said triumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda. 'I knew everything would be fine.' Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; Money, Status, Career, Love, Power and now, Freedom, without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down ... Yes, she was free. Her phone buzzed urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear. 'Stocks 10% increase!' Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her...And while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen, the old woman in the backseat became invisible, and she did not see the tears.

Is it simple? Simple language used, well written of thoughts of how us, treating our old age parents, taking them as a burden. It is written by a 8 year old kid. You could guess where he/she is from, from the essay.

There was this incident that happened 2 years ago, my cousin, a 29 year old, who was born and raised in Australia, asking her mother, pointing at mine, asking why my mother is such a selfish person, educating her children that, it is their responsibility to take care of their parents when they are old. Unlike the westerners, thoughts of my cousin, claiming that parents leave their children to rot after the age of 18 and therefore, the separation of responsibility is clearly drawn, and was asking me, why am I stupid enough to head back home after graduation instead trying to strive for success and freedom in some country that support liberty. I

I wonder am I too culture driven by my parents, which what my cousin says was true? or it is just her, who have a westerner's thought, which you might agree with?

Thank you for sparing your precious time for such a long essay.

blurrr..

It is a Friday night and I'm sitting here doing my assignment... Hm.. student life... whats nice about it? It has been a month since the day I slept at 3am and dragging it, lengthening it, now, 6am would be the time that I go to bed. Thats bad.....Guess have to turn my clock back.

Other than Wednesdays morning and Thursdays afternoons, I have no other classes. 6 hours a week plus maybe an hour of groceries shopping, there is no where else that I would go. Sitted on this chair, more than 15 hours a day, facing my one and only entertainment, my laptop which is for work as well, I would need to pay a visit to the optometrist soon. As staring at this screen for nearly 15 hours a day non-stop is causing me to see blurry words at the moment!

Back to my assignments! Sigh.. what do I have to know from NZTE from tip of my fingers. I'm not planning to work here, neither am I planning to start an entrepreneurship here. GEezzz . The assignments are really getting on my nerves!

something wrong with me?

Geez! I went to bed at 6am but at 7, 10, 11, 12 my phone keep ringing... There are at least 6 phone calls and numerous texts! Adui.... until I turned it off! So irritating. Doubt I've even got 5 hours sleep as I'll be awake for the next half an hour or so when someone rings me.

Its a Saturday afternoon, I've been in this room this Wednesday morning. Hm... some says I'm crazy, some says I'm hiding... but all I could say is.. I don't know why, and I'm sort of enjoying facing this boring events in my small little room! Lol....

I'm not sure what I've been eating too.. as long as something is available in my house, thats it. And crazy enough to turn down an invitation for drinks yesterday too.. maybe because there were 7 other nerds who I knew were going. Hahaha...

My 1st assignment is due on Friday, following by 2 more on next Wednesday. Hope I could finish them by end of this week. Will see....

"continued disgust at seeing the moneychangers running the temple of tertiary education."

Former University of Otago senior lecturer Stuart Greif said: "I took early retirement in 1997 for many reasons but one of them was my continued disgust at seeing the moneychangers running the temple of tertiary education." Official figures showed a 325 per cent rise in the number of foreign fee paying students at universities, nationally, between 1996 and 2006.

The sacking of UoA senior lecturer Dr.Paul Buchanan has turned into a debate not only about the merits of his own case but also whether high paying foreigners are lowering academic standards. In his letter, he refuse to permit an assignment extension for the student who uses her father's dead as a reason by saying its a "lame excuse"! He also attacked overseas student being accepted in courses are "poor quality" and accused the student of preying on "some sort of Western liberal guilt".
Other than that, he did mentioned that if the student was Professor Hoadley's student, it explains everything. Wow..... He have guts, to just offend his colleagues like that!

I guess i happened to fall in that 36% of people who agree for sacking him. For those who don't, as I was browsing through the 2596 comments written, are mostly "smart alecs" who proudly saying that they gain their qualifications from the ivy leagues or one of the best colleges around the world. Hm.... and critisizing that because of "poor quality" overseas student are lowering the standards of their mother country's education quality as they are only classify as second level universities and asked us, the international students and migrants to go back home and gain a local degree instead. But then, for most of them, seems to be living in another part of the world? Don't they notice that they are also categorize under 'some migrants' to where they are living, which makes them part of the international high 'taxpayers', where the locals might also be asking them to get back to their own Cowland?

Next is those who complains that this 'rich kids' who come along enjoying their time and obtaining a piece of cert which they put so much effort to achieve it? I wonder when do they have an equal system for this cowlanders to obtain an IELTS or TOEFL for entrance requirements? No doubt, most of them would score higher than us, but those who can speak fluently are not necessary those who can write good english or speaks good english. They too, have mistakes, the only difference is the accent which determines whether he/she is a cowlander or a foreigner!

Alright, enough of criticism made with my poor english. Lets just hope this does not affect my lecturers in educating us and especially, marking our work from 'lousy poor quality foreigners'. Sigh....Goodnight.

paranoid...

I think I'm suffering from paranoia or some unconscious mental issues. On average of three days a week I have woken myself up, by the 'realization' of not doing enough studies and research in order to just pass these last three papers for my last semester of my university life. Waking myself up is not that terrible, the terrible part is, I have woken myself up after only 2-3 hours of sleep, then being wide awake for the next hour or more before I could fall asleep again. I guess I could just wake up and start a new day after 3 hours sleep a day and catch up during afternoon naps then.. sigh...

I'm just so frantic in worry of passing these three papers, which are my last three papers of my degree. Partly because it is all about NZ trade and policies with development programmes, strategic plans of the NZ construction industry, SMEs development strategies of different countries, etc... It's hard because my lecturer demand proofs of at least 20 cases of what has happened instead of just theories and philosophies from journals and books. Ohhh my... their the expert, if I have any mistake, thats it...

If I was the unlucky ones who fail these papers, I have to stay one full year more in order to complete my degree as these are only offered in second semester.

Please god, guide me through.... and make it stop! I don't wanna be woken up after 3 hours of sleep each day. The one and only thing I would miss of this country is the weather for sleeping. I love cuddling in the layers of duvets and blankets.

funny animations

embarassing yet funny....

Sitting here, I'm listening to my flatmate moaning!! OMG! She has a girl friend in her room, what are they doing? Hm.. Ewww......

Lol.. .. Alright.

Today I went for my Enterprise Development class which the whole paper talks about creativity, innovation of entrepreneurship. Instead of having the usual boring Dr.Cardrow, we had Kim for today. It was just the best class I've ever been to.

Instead of 3 hours of pure lectures. We had games, debates and lots of 'projects'. We had this 'project' dump to us, asking us to be creative to set up promotional ideas for the item given. My group's item was "funk" a hair dressing related item. We are suppose to present the idea five minutes later. As the time was so cram, we then talk about it for a minute then we separated into individual work to complete our own task for the presentation. After 5 mins, we were standing infront of 200 people, preparing to present our idea. And once my groupmate start introducing, the class burst into laughter. All 4 of us were stunned, wondering what has happened. Then Kim was just shouting "OH, this is really creative!! How could this ever happen?".

Being the clowns, we then found out what was happening, this groupmate of mine, had to do the cardboard thing with the logo of "funk" on it, and..... instead of "funk" it became "fuck"... Therefore, we're presenting "fuck" for the day... oh man.... It was so embarrassing but we were just laughing our way off too. Poor girl, Kim asked her was she thinking of what she did last night or is she craving it when she did that, in front of 200 people. But neither could I stop laughing when I saw that.