withdrawal

First weekend after the end of exams and I am faced with the possibility of being stuck in my peaceful little mountain retreat for the whole weekend. France is on strike again. The simultaneous and coordinated action by all three transport companies struck hard in the midst of the failing economy. I would very much like to support the unions and fight for better working conditions and reimbursements for the people. However, my small unforgiving heart is already trying its best to support their cause wholeheartedly, while wallowing in the fact that I am being punished as a result. The end of exams did not act as a catalyst to trigger chain reactions of happiness. Instead, it lent a hand in the letting out air in a balloon. Deflated. Void of motivation. Even the cheerfulness that came with the New Year lasted only as long as the lifespan of a mayfly. People retreat to the nature to take a break from the hustle bustle of the city. On the other hand, I need to see the city to relive the materialistic moments of the life which that I had once led as a city dweller. Erhm. Last movie I caught was Wall-E. Wall E is still cool right? guys. guys?

I need my fix. how about an healthy a dose of junk food.

complain

You want to write a complain letter do it right. Like how this guy did it.

"Dear Mr Branson

REF: Mumbai to Heathrow 7th December 2008

I love the Virgin brand, I really do which is why I continue to use it despite a series of unfortunate incidents over the last few years. This latest incident takes the biscuit.

Ironically, by the end of the flight I would have gladly paid over a thousand rupees for a single biscuit following the culinary journey of hell I was subjected to at the hands of your corporation.

Look at this Richard. Just look at it: [see image 1, below].

I imagine the same questions are racing through your brilliant mind as were racing through mine on that fateful day. What is this? Why have I been given it? What have I done to deserve this? And, which one is the starter, which one is the desert?

You don’t get to a position like yours Richard with anything less than a generous sprinkling of observational power so I KNOW you will have spotted the tomato next to the two yellow shafts of sponge on the left. Yes, it’s next to the sponge shaft without the green paste. That’s got to be the clue hasn’t it. No sane person would serve a desert with a tomato would they. Well answer me this Richard, what sort of animal would serve a desert with peas in: [see image 2, below].

I know it looks like a baaji but it’s in custard Richard, custard. It must be the pudding. Well you’ll be fascinated to hear that it wasn't custard. It was a sour gel with a clear oil on top. It’s only redeeming feature was that it managed to be so alien to my palette that it took away the taste of the curry emanating from our miscellaneous central cuboid of beige matter. Perhaps the meal on the left might be the desert after all.

Anyway, this is all irrelevant at the moment. I was raised strictly but neatly by my parents and if they knew I had started desert before the main course, a sponge shaft would be the least of my worries. So lets peel back the tin-foil on the main dish and see what’s on offer.

I’ll try and explain how this felt. Imagine being a twelve year old boy Richard. Now imagine it’s Christmas morning and you’re sat their with your final present to open. It’s a big one, and you know what it is. It’s that Goodmans stereo you picked out the catalogue and wrote to Santa about.

Only you open the present and it’s not in there. It’s your hamster Richard. It’s your hamster in the box and it’s not breathing. That’s how I felt when I peeled back the foil and saw this: [see image 3, below].

Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking it’s more of that Baaji custard. I admit I thought the same too, but no. It’s mustard Richard. MUSTARD. More mustard than any man could consume in a month. On the left we have a piece of broccoli and some peppers in a brown glue-like oil and on the right the chef had prepared some mashed potato. The potato masher had obviously broken and so it was decided the next best thing would be to pass the potatoes through the digestive tract of a bird.

Once it was regurgitated it was clearly then blended and mixed with a bit of mustard. Everybody likes a bit of mustard Richard.

By now I was actually starting to feel a little hypoglycaemic. I needed a sugar hit. Luckily there was a small cookie provided. It had caught my eye earlier due to it’s baffling presentation: [see image 4, below].

It appears to be in an evidence bag from the scene of a crime. A CRIME AGAINST BLOODY COOKING. Either that or some sort of back-street underground cookie, purchased off a gun-toting maniac high on his own supply of yeast. You certainly wouldn’t want to be caught carrying one of these through customs. Imagine biting into a piece of brass Richard. That would be softer on the teeth than the specimen above.

I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was relax but obviously I had to sit with that mess in front of me for half an hour. I swear the sponge shafts moved at one point.

Once cleared, I decided to relax with a bit of your world-famous onboard entertainment. I switched it on: [see image 5, below].

I apologise for the quality of the photo, it’s just it was incredibly hard to capture Boris Johnson’s face through the flickering white lines running up and down the screen. Perhaps it would be better on another channel: [see image 6, below].

Is that Ray Liotta? A question I found myself asking over and over again throughout the gruelling half-hour I attempted to watch the film like this. After that I switched off. I’d had enough. I was the hungriest I’d been in my adult life and I had a splitting headache from squinting at a crackling screen.

My only option was to simply stare at the seat in front and wait for either food, or sleep. Neither came for an incredibly long time. But when it did it surpassed my wildest expectations: [see image 7, above].

Yes! It’s another crime-scene cookie. Only this time you dunk it in the white stuff.

Richard…. What is that white stuff? It looked like it was going to be yoghurt. It finally dawned on me what it was after staring at it. It was a mixture between the Baaji custard and the Mustard sauce. It reminded me of my first week at university. I had overheard that you could make a drink by mixing vodka and refreshers. I lied to my new friends and told them I’d done it loads of times. When I attempted to make the drink in a big bowl it formed a cheese Richard, a cheese. That cheese looked a lot like your baaji-mustard.

So that was that Richard. I didn’t eat a bloody thing. My only question is: How can you live like this? I can’t imagine what dinner round your house is like, it must be like something out of a nature documentary.

As I said at the start I love your brand, I really do. It’s just a shame such a simple thing could bring it crashing to it’s knees and begging for sustenance.

Yours Sincererly

XXXX"

Paul Charles, Virgin’s Director of Corporate Communications, confirmed that Sir Richard Branson had telephoned the author of the letter and had thanked him for his “constructive if tongue-in-cheek” email. Mr Charles said that Virgin was sorry the passenger had not liked the in-flight meals which he said was “award-winning food which is very popular on our Indian routes.”

A round of applause please.

iraq

It felt good reading about Iraqis going to vote on Saturday in the first nationwide elections in 3 years. If the process is peaceful, giving the US administration enough confidence with the local security; this election would actually acts as a litmus test for the withdrawal of US troops in Iraq. Even though the races are local, if successful, this could be inside history textbooks someday. I am lucky to be always living in safe environments. Having not witness violence and calamities first hand, I am not able to sympathize with the pain that victims of the Gaza strip and hurricanes in Barcelona. I am happy for Iraq's progress, satisfied with Singapore's Resilience Package and relieved that my exams have ended. I didn't make any resolutions on 1st Jan, but I am going to make one now.

I hope to take on more social responsibilities. let's kick off the new year.

春节快乐！

orz

TCP/IP HTTP FTP URL UML UDP ARP RARP ICQ IRC SMTP DNS SSH SNMP LDAP POP IPv4 IPv6 CORBA DSL FDDI VOIP RPC JAVA-RMI GLOBUS SQL

OMG. so many abbreviations swimming in my head.

bored?

reality check

When faced with a problem on a past year paper that I cannot solve, I approached a friend. The said friend refused to even look at the question. No time. I myself cannot finish studying. I help you, who help me? The door was then closed on me. 2 possibilities. Either that friend is an assh***. Or I had been an assh***. Now I have 2 more questions that I do not know the answer too.

i shouldn't be judging others.

wth

got an exam on 初一 . Damn.

norwegian recycling

cool. yea.

bored

Exams. I'm so bored.. (link)

"laugh to the world."-cj

"JunYong Search Engin."-cj

I'm still damn bored. Exams.

what to say..

"Jun yong, I like you more when you are sick and can't put up a proper fight. haha, you are so harmless."

ok ok u win.

berlin wall and i

The 300m long wall was the covered with the different works and styles of several artists. Each painting depicts its own meaning and the longest remaining part of the Berlin wall was aptly named - The East Side Gallery. The barb wires that once sit on top the the wall was replaced by the cylindrical pipes. The smooth surface of the pipes prevents people who are desperate enough to grab onto the barb wires from scaling over the wall.

"berlin wall - a reminder of aommunism."-cj

"my contribution to the east side gallery.!"-cj
"1984 - 5 years before it was being torn down."-cj

"hmm."-cj

"i came. i saw."-cj

"my failed attempt to cross the wall."-cj

my x'mas day with the berlin wall.

silence

it is exceptionally quiet tonight. i wonder where did all the Spaniards go?

one foot of snow

too bad im too old for snow angels..

snow flakes

i physically checked. snow flakes really do have those nice hexagonal designs like how they show on cartoons.

nature's natural symmetry.

murphy's

I thought. The chance to work for a company who is willing to pay for my internship interview travel expenses is such a sweet deal. I put on my best suit, brush shine my shoes and I was on my way to catch my flight to London. I was nursing a throat inflammation, but that wasn't going to stop me. Then, came Murphy.

6 inch of snow accumulated from the 2 days of snowing was more than what the Paris rail could handle. The slippery icy roads forced the buses to move at crawling pace. Good thing I left school 3hrs before check-in allowing me to arrive on time. 2021hr. At the airport, I was greeted by an electronic map which mark out the highways and main roads which were blocked or had accidents on them. The whole map was blinking red lights! Ha. Murphy hasn't got to me yet; or so I thought. The airport was unusually crowded. I checked out the departure board and i saw why. Flight scheduled at 1500hrs are now checking in at 2030hrs. I scrolled down the list to look for my flight. "Delayed. Expected departure time : 0036hrs." Shit, I thought. I'm not going to have enough sleep. I hung around the airport, bought an Economist to read and grudgingly bought an overpriced pizza to fill my stomach. Microeconomics. Not enough eateries in the airport to drive prices down. I read The Undercover Economist. It reasoned how most of the profits from that 8euro quarter of a pizza ends up in the pockets of the airport landlord and not Pizza Hut.

Time flies. 2345hrs. An announcement "Flight xxxx to London Luton has been canceled. All passengers...." Merde. I weighed my other options. I can ask for the next flight ( pointless. it would be filled up by the people from my flight), ask for the next next flight (pointless too. I would still miss my interview), reschedule (my timetable doesn't allow for that), Eurostar trains (viable. but 245euros. what if I'm not reimbursed) or forget the interview (not an option). By the time I made sure there wasn't any direct or indirect flight I could get on, its 0006hrs. I missed the last train back to school. By this time, my coughing has gotten worse and I was feeling drained. A voice said," Go home."

After 3hrs of bus ride and 4 fruitless calls for a taxi, I was at arrived at the train station at -2 degees. Before I can get to school I would first have to climb up the Moulon plateau. The foot of the Moulon plateau is an underpass away. 0256hrs. I crossed the underpass to find the other side of the underpass locked! I walked back to the entance and saw the gate shut in front of me. Great, now I'm trapped in a cold windy underpass. Who's smart idea was it to install gates at underpass? Once locked how are people suppose to cross over to the other side of the railway lines? Someone came to my rescue after I abused the emergency button. 0345hrs. I stood under the refreshing hot bath. Thinking how the evening had unfolded. Never before had I been in such a pathetic predicament. 0430hrs.

I sat in front of my computer how staring at the Eurostar train that will take my to London on time for my interview. 231 euros. Departing Gare du Nord at 0736hrs, leaving me with 1hr before I have to leave for Gare du Nord. I'm tired and the walk in the cold had made me very sick.

I hestitate. 0436hrs.

austria - vienna

Vienna, the music capital of Europe. For as low as 3 euros you can catch an opera or an orchestra. The lavishly decorated room and the people that streamed into the room will make your smart causal attire seem oddly out of place. People are of a different class here. A man wearing a tuxedo brought a foldaway chair and a book to read before the start of the performance. The equally elegantly dressed old lady in front of him was knitting a scarf. A quick scan through the crowds and you can spot who are the locals and who are the tourists.

Surprising the most enjoyable part of the trip weren't the music in the streets or the performances. It was the morning i spend in the cemeteries looking for the graves of the famous musicians like Mozart, Beethoven etc. I sat alone in the cemetery at 8am in the morning, i cant really say that I'm alone except that everyone around me is resting in peace. Tranquility. Something that always eludes me as i go about my day to day routine.

"i have the whole park to myself."-cj

"read all about it.
pay a dollar and its up to you
to just take only a copy not 2."-cj

"Mozart's grave was easy to find.
But the rest are not."-cj

"stop! cyclist please put your right leg on the ground!"-cj

"Schloss Schonbrunn. The Vienna equivalent of Versailles."-cj

"Sigmund Freud Museum.
too bad i didnt have time to go in for a look,
cos i really wonder what can they put on display?" -cj

"dogs are allowed on trains, sometimes restaurants too,
as long as they are muzzled."-cj

"be careful of what lurks in a cemetry."-cj

"mozart."-cj

"Zentralfriedhof (Central Cemetery) - Beethoven." -cj

"schunbert."-cj

"brahms."-cj

"Hundertwasserhaus" -cj

"the artist simply do not like straight lines."-cj

"Stephansdom (St. Stephen's Cathedral)"-cj

"museum district."-cj

"The New Palace (Neue Hofburg)"-cj

It snowed in vienna too.

economic downturn

Even Santa wasn't spared from the economic downturn. He sold his rein deers, dismissed all his elves and had to rely on cheap public transport to deliver presents.

"looking through his list of good children."-cj

i met Santa doing his rounds on x'mas eve.

new year

I returned to Paris and to a new year. Paris at 2 degree seems harmlessly cool compared to the blistering -6 degree in Warsaw. I took off my scarfs and my gloves looked at the sun set behind the Eiffel tower and thought. I love Paris. I love my current life. I love my motivation. I love the people around me. 2008 was a great year for me. Happy new year.

"first sunrise of 2009. warsaw."-cj

No resolutions for me for 2009.