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anotherlongshot
11 July 2020 @ 08:15 pm
This journal is mostly public with some friends-only entries that will primarily be visible to my close real-life friends.

I'm currently in the process of importing my thousand-ish entries from my mammoth Diaryland journal which I have decided to abandon because it's not letting me archive my entries. Hopefully that would be done sooner rather than later.

Leave a comment if you want to be added.
 
 
anotherlongshot
14 May 2012 @ 02:33 am

Roger beats Tomas Berdych in three sets in Madrid and won:

- his 74th career title;
- his 20th Masters title, a record he holds with Nadal; and
- the #2 ranking.

When everything else pretty much sucks in real life, it's nice to know that I've still got my Federer soma.

Off to bed. It's gonna be a sleepy day at work. Pics to follow.

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anotherlongshot
10 May 2012 @ 11:15 am

I'm so fucking tired.

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anotherlongshot
09 May 2012 @ 05:19 pm

With Cambridge's long overdue email of rejection, it's finally official: I'm going to London.

The only plus side I can see to this now is that at least I wouldn't have to give up the chance to live in London for a year; I'd die living in a place like Cambridge, or really, anywhere that isn't a big, bustling city.

That said, I'd be lying if I said this didn't suck like fuck, however much I expected it. A second rejection from my dream school. Wow, it makes you wonder what's the point of your continued existence if you keep failing to get what you want. Of course I'm not feeling that dramatically and I don't mean that literally; I'm just saying.

Now, as for when I'm going...

Sigh.

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anotherlongshot
12 April 2012 @ 09:57 pm
Someday, I would really like to understand why people insist on boarding an MRT carriage that's practically filled to the brim when the next train is coming in 2 minutes. I would also really like to understand why mainlanders are such fucking assholes, like this fucking disgusting mainlander guy who continued reading his stupid newspaper despite how crowded it was, who had the gall to push my bag when it got in the way when HE was the one who boarded the damn train even though it was already crowded as hell.

Also, in relation to all those idiots walking while texting on their iPhones or better yet, watching a video on their iPads, I would like to see them walk head-first into a wall one day, or walk into someone, or trip and fall while walking down the stairs. That would be fucking hilarious. Why bloody text and walk at the same time if they can't walk fast while texting? They only get in my way and I'm already super irritated everytime I have to take the MRT and these idiots do not help the already fucked up situation by pissing me off even more.

I hate that I have to take the MRT home. Obviously public transport is hazardrous to my health. If I were actually loaded I'd take a taxi home every day; unfortunately, I'm just a humble civil servant with an overblown ego.

Fuck that shit.

***

The subconscious jealousy harboured by people still stuck living in the past will never cease to amuse me.

***

I just found out that I can download the Shelly Kagan Death course on iTunes. The downside is that it's taking forever to download 20 lectures. There's even a full transcript of all the lectures. Too bad there isn't a copy of all the reading materials; I actually have to go get the books and I don't think I can be fucked to do that.

Lastly, Caroline Wozniacki is so fat and ugly. It's a joke how she was #1 for 2 years without a forehand to which I compare mine to demonstrate how I don't have a forehand.
 
 
anotherlongshot
08 April 2012 @ 11:48 pm
I have one more episode to go before Chuck officially ends for me forever. I just want to say that I was virtually in tears during the entire Chuck versus Sarah episode. Oh my god, the whole scene when Chuck was begging Sarah to remember them in their dream house made me cry. It was so heartbreaking especially after the flashbacks to how they started - their first kiss in Season 1 oh my god, that was so stunningly sweet, and their wanting a normal life with each other after all the spy shit. Zachary Levi was so good, and after his speech Sarah just went, "That's sweet but I don't believe you" and kicked the shit out of him. Oh my god, so heartbreaking.

Season 4 wasn't great for the most part so I sort of weaned off the show a bit but now that it's ended, and I'm one episode away from the end, I don't want it to end. This is my second favourite show of all-time after Veronica Mars. I've watched the first season - in order - like at least 3 times (I've watched the first season of VM from start to finish 7 times already), the second and third seasons at least twice. It's so fucking good. Apart from the comedy and the slapstick and the action and Yvonne Strahovski's gender-transcending hotness, I fucking love the Chuck/Sarah relationship. They always bloody make me cry and this whole Sarah losing her memory plot...what the hell, it should lead up to the next season, not be the storyline of the series finale. It makes me so sad that there's no more season 6. It'd probably suck like season 4 did but sucky Chuck is better than no Chuck.

When I saw Sarah's hotel room from the first couple of seasons at the end of episode 11 it really hit me that the show has ended. So bloody sad. I can't believe I didn't recognise Bryce's action sequence from season 1 when Sarah did that under-the-table sliding thing in Chuck versus Sarah. Obviously I need to watch season 1 again.

I love this show so much. This is an incoherent entry.
 
 
anotherlongshot
05 April 2012 @ 11:29 pm
Wei Chuen made me listen to Pitbull in his car today. After 10 seconds into the first "song" I felt a burning desire to end myself. He assaulted my good taste with that CD all the way from Paragon to Upper Bukit Timah.

He has the dubious distinction of being the first person I know who owns a dance album. In fact, I didn't know that people actually shell out good money for these things. Since this is the kind of music that clubs play, it's no wonder I haven't bothered going since that time I got drunk like, 4 years ago.

That said, despite his horrendous lapse in judgement when he bought this CD, a lapse to which he sinks every time he listens to it, it was pretty cute listening to him talk about this Pitbull guy and watching him watch my reaction to the "songs".

**

I bought this dress today:





I've never seen Maria's line sold in the shops here so I had no choice but to buy it.

I wanted to buy some new work clothes and I tried on a bunch at Mango but for some reason they were all damn low cut. I ended up buying another casual dress and some random casual top.

Wei Chuen bought a shirt at Burberry. I really have no words.
 
 
anotherlongshot
28 March 2012 @ 10:57 pm
Favourite YouTube playlist at the moment: Death with Shelly Kagan.

I was like a kid in the candy shop when I discovered Yale's YouTube channel. There's a playlist on 20th century literary theory. There is a video called "Natural Law Roots of the Social Contract Tradition". There is a playlist on Ancient Greek history. All that's missing is some form of legal theory/constitutional theory/international law BS. This is the most exciting YouTube find of all-time. I can't wait to watch these videos.

I'm a such a fucking nerd.

**

I went to Orchard during lunch today to try on this Mango dress that I saw last week which I didn't have time to try on (Wei Chuen was already waiting for me at the Japanese restaurant where we were having dinner). I was pleased as punch after I tried it on because it was SUPER cute and I had to buy it in XS. It's a white dress with a tank top top and a short flare floral-embroidered skirt. It doesn't look too great from the back and it's probably not worth $69 but who gives a fuck. This was the first dress I bought since January when I bought a couple of dresses in Melbourne and a tennis outfit. Yeah I haven't bought anything, clothes-wise, since then.

Anyway, the point of all this is to bitch about the fucking retarded cashier at Mango who appeared to be from the wonderful country known as the People's Republic of China. I went to the cashier to pay for my dress and I received the shock of my life when I heard the following words escape from the cashier's mouth:

"Mango or Isetan card, you have?"

I was genuinely stunned for a couple of seconds. That is, I was stunned because I genuinely did not comprehend her; the words sounded like gibberish the first time round.

I said, "Sorry?"

The cashier replied, with a slight tinge of annoyance in her voice, "Mango or Isetan card, you have?"

This time round I understood her perfectly and I was too affronted by the shit grammar and shit attitude to hide my annoyance. After I gave her my card and my credit card and signed for my item, she didn't even say thank you as she handed me my receipt.

What a fucking bitch. Who the hell in Mango trained her to say "Mango or Isetan card, you have?" to a customer? Mango's salesgirls aren't known for their impeccable service but this bitch was just pushing it a tad too far. I hardly ever come across cashiers who don't at least say thank you after the customer pays. I'm not even asking for a fucking smile; just two simple bloody words to demonstrate some semblance of politeness even if they're not feeling it. Who gives a shit about how they feel? They're paid to serve customers and the least, really the LEAST, that they could do is to say thank you.

Obviously, though, Mango needs to train their bloody PRC staff to speak proper English. "Mango or Isetan card, you have?" Seriously, I've never fucking heard this before in all my years of shopping at Mango - and considering it's my favourite shop, that's a lot of shopping at Mango over a period of at least 8 years. "You have Mango or Isetan card?" would not have been nearly as offensive. Poor grammar aside, what that bitch cashier said was just so rude and her bitch face didn't help matters at all.

Speaking of bitches, I had the misfortune of losing my MRT spot by the door against the glass panel to some auntie-in-training today. I boarded the MRT at Jurong East and headed for the other door since I was getting off at the next stop and I wanted to lean against the glass panel by the door. However, the auntie-in-waiting made a beeline for the same spot as me and even though I actually got there a split second faster, which meant that the civilised thing for her to do in this situation is to abandon the prize, she barged in and took my spot.

Fucking bitch oh my god. That really annoyed the crap out of me, but obviously wasn't big enough of an issue for me to make a fuss of, so I just rolled my eyes really hard and sauntered away.

Also, it really grosses me out to the max when guys/men blatantly stare at me on the MRT. The guys/men in question are usually butt-ugly to boot and fat and old and smoky and just bloody gross. It makes me feel violated. I'd be playing Scramble on my phone and I'd randomly look up after I finish a game and I'd suddenly catch some gross middle-aged man with a gross huge-ass belly staring at me, which would make me wonder how long he'd been doing that, which would just make me feel all gross inside. If they ever tried to speak to me I'd tell them to fuck off straight away.

Okay I think I'm done ranting. There was something specific that I wanted to say on top of all this useless shit but I can't remember what it was.

There was some staff seminar today. I didn't sign up 'cause the email said "sign up quickly to secure your spot" which implied it was not compulsory and I hadn't the slightest clue what the staff seminar was about and it didn't sound very interesting so I couldn't be bothered. I was literally the only person in my section of the office the whole morning. It was amazing. I wish it could be like that every day.
 
 
anotherlongshot
24 March 2012 @ 11:39 pm
So much sadness. So much fucking sadness.

It'd be nice to believe in miracles. It'd be nice to be able to place hope in that 1% and perhaps pray for some sort of divine intervention. It'd be nice to analyse past events from the perspective of someone who believes in fate and that "things happen for a reason", in a bid to make sense of the randomness that has caused such utter chaos in my life.

Unfortunately, I'm not that person. I don't know when I became so coldly rational; perhaps law school and the law did something to me...or maybe it's simply how I've always been wired. I believe in miracles insofar as I believe that coincidences happen. Over the past few months, I've also wondered, incessantly, ceaselessly, why certain events have unfolded the way they did and led me to this point in my life, when I feel, for the first time in my 25 years, what it really means to be close to death; to be so utterly alone, to be an island on which no one else steps because I don't let them in, or because it's too depressing and complicated for them to be here with me; and that Thomas Hobbes was right all along (as was my ex), that life, in man's natural state of being, is poor, nasty, brutish and short.

Especially that last word - short. These philosophical ruminations on death and life and religion and the banal proletariat comfort of religion and the meaninglessness of life help me only insofar as I'm able to make sense of things in a way that makes sense to me. That said, while I have no problem (insofar as this is possible) with the idea of the total extinction of my existence, of fading into sheer oblivion once I die, I cannot stomach the idea of the same happening to the people that I love. It's this fear, or reluctance to accept reality, or whatever, that probably haunts Julian Barnes and prompted him to put together Nothing to be Frightened Of. I've never understood why someone would be agnostic and sit on the fence like that...until now. It's not easy to accept death; it's even more difficult to think about it happening to the people that you love. I've never once considered what I would do when my parents pass on because the mere fleeting thought of it causes a lump to form in my throat. Now, though, it's actually so much worse.

I've only ever experienced one death my entire life and I was 8 when it happened. I've never had anything major happening to me. I still don't know why this is happening.

And it's okay going to get worse - much worse - from here.

**

I feel like a trip to Taipei so badly and I need to go by myself, but my grandparents would freak out. Even if I went by myself my relatives would be hovering around all the time, too. The only way is to go discreetly and not tell my relatives but I'd have to stay in a hotel for that. That would be so weird.

I need to get away from all this sadness for a while. The world makes more sense to me in Taipei. It's comforting, it's familiar, like the touch of your parent's hand on your forehand when you're having a fever. I've never needed that so badly like I do now.

I'm thinking of going in May after my family obligations and before the summer begins. I hope it happens. I'm emotionally detached from everything right now; but once it hits...
 
 
anotherlongshot
20 March 2012 @ 11:50 pm
73!  
Omg I can't believe it's only March and I'm making my third entry about my darling Rogi winning a title! He's lost a grand total of two matches since that devastating US Open semi-final loss to Novak Djokovic last September. After winning two titles back to back (Rotterdam then Dubai), he's just extended his winning streak to three tournaments in a row by defeating John Isner 7-6(7), 6-3 in the Indian Wells final. With this win, he's tied Nadal's record of most number of Masters title won at 19.

(I'm tempted to type a bunch of "hahahahahahahahaha" here but that's such tardish behaviour and I refuse to stoop that low).

Scattered thoughts on the final and the tournament:

1. Roger was sick at the start of the tournament; he caught some flu virus or whatever. Nobody really expected him to win and I would have been content if he'd merely defended his semi-final points from last year, especially in light of his three-set victories against Raonic and Belluci. Even during one of his on-court interviews he said that he was just taking the tournament match by match which seemed to be the logical thing to do in light of his pretty serious sickness. He even sounded sick; he was panting more than usual. When he easily dispatched del Potro I was surprised. When he easily dispatched Nadal I was shocked. When I woke up to news that he easily dispatched Isner I was over the moon.

2. This Federer is a different Federer from the Federer that I watched over the past two years. He's visibly more motivated now than he was last year or even in 2010. The 2010/2011 Federer might have lost to Raonic after dropping that first set, or even freaking Belluci; he might have somehow found a way to lose to Nadal and relinquishing his set and double break lead. It's very heartening for me as a fan to see him battling his illness and fighting for his victories on court the whole week; it gives me hope that him winning his 17th major isn't totally impossible. In terms of the tennis, I'm just shocked by how I continue to be shocked by how sublime his forehand is when it's on song. His backhand, however, is probably the biggest and most visible difference in his game, generally speaking, and comparing now to the previous two years. Simply put, it's going into the net so much less. He's able to stay in a rally without going to the slice, like he did against Nadal, and without his backhand eventually breaking down like, 50% of the time.

3. The final against Isner was some of the best tennis I've seen from Roger so far this year. It was a very one-sided match, especially in the second set when Roger lost just one point on serve. It was probably boring for the casual tennis viewer or the tennis fan who isn't simultaneously a Federer fan, but it was just a visual treat for me. He was hitting forehand winners all over the court. The points were short, began by a big first serve and finished with a strong forehand winner. Roger completely dominated the rallies, often ending them with - wait for it - a forehand winner. I don't have much personal affinity with the forehand as my forehand is the worst shot in the history of tennis, but Roger's forehand was the reason I fell head over heels in love with tennis. It's one of those rarities in life that has an effect so profound on a person that the person is unable to adequately put it into words; it's one of those rare times when I really feel like all the superlatives have been used up by journalists and fans alike over the years scrambling to find the right words to describe the Federer Forehand. I wouldn't be so bold as to say that it's the best forehand in the history of tennis because I'm no tennis expert and I have but scant knowledge of tennis history; but it's certainly the most beautiful shot that I have ever seen. Aided by his superior footwork, he runs around the backhand and gets in a favourable position to allow him to hit the forehand seemingly anywhere he wants. Some of the inside-in forehands that he hit against Nadal were just incredible.

4. Speaking of Nadal - oh my GOD, Roger's incredible defence at 5-4, 30-all, to set up match point. Nadal played like the player that had a 18-9 head-to-head record against Roger Federer - he basically dominated that entire point, leaving Roger scrambling from side to side, digging out shots from awkward positions, and finally, just as Nadal closed in on the kill, he smacked the forehand into the net. My heart was in my throat that entire time; if Nadal had made it, or if Roger had failed to retrieve one of the preceding shots, it would have been break point and there would have been a very high chance of Roger choking away a set and double break lead and eventually losing the match (which would have left me utterly shattered for sure). Roger's highly pumped up reaction after that point said it all.

5. This is getting to be a lot longer than I'd initially intended and I'm freaking tired, so my final point will be dedicated to laughing at the commentators. In the tie-break against Isner, Roger missed like 1746387167346732 set points (okay it was just 3) and let Isner hang around until the score was 7-all. Isner hit an approach (his approach shots were really good actually; definitely way superior to Roddick's. Not sure why I even made this comparison apart from how they're both Americans with a big serve) to Roger's backhand and Roger shanked a backhand lob that landed in, which Isner chose not to chase down. The American commentator actually said something like, "Oh my god, what an amazing shot!" I was just like...who the fuck pays this gimp to commentate? Anyone who's watched enough tennis can hear that the shot was a mishit. I hate it when commentators try to make players' shots look better than they really are. This shot was an obvious shank and Roger was lucky that it landed in, and there this guy was, drooling all over the shot. At least Robbie Koenig set the record straight and said that it was a framed shot.

Anyway, whatever. Roger won!!!!! Pictures!!!!!













And lastly, my favourite:





***

On another note, I'd just like to state for the record that I absolutely hate playing tennis at night now. I cannot handle the humidity. I cannot stand how wet and clammy I become just 15 minutes into the session. I bent down after 15 minutes last night to tie my shoelaces and sweat was dripping off me. 30 minutes later I felt like I'd just emerged from a sauna. My wristband was pretty much soaked by the end of the 2 hours.

Playing under the sun or in the day is so much better. Natural light beats flood lights anytime; it's not as humid in the day and the heat makes the perspiration feel a lot less uncomfortable; and it feels so much happier and less dreary to play when the sun is up and it's bright. If it weren't for the fact that I need to work, I wouldn't even play tennis at night. It makes me not want to go at all; I just drag myself because I need the exercise and I'm trying to fix my shitty forehand.

Speaking of shitty forehand, it was incredible how I missed literally every single short forehand that I tried to hit cross-court last night, either hitting it out or into the net (more out than net). I hate getting short balls; it means I need to run forward to hit it which is so tiring. Also, I still cannot handle balls with like, zero pace to my forehand that give me too much time to think and screw up the shot. I can't generate any pace with my forehand anyway 'cause it's so lousy and so I really prefer balls to have some pace when they come to my forehand side (which I try to run around whenever possible; that's how much I hate it). I like floaty and paceless balls to the backhand though, and needless to say it continues to be the only thing preventing me from giving up tennis altogether.

I've stopped the training because I ran out of motivation and it's too expensive. The bright side is that I bought myself a forehand volley, albeit at a rather high price (780 x 3 - can't be bothered to calculate). The downside is that my serve is still non-existent and I'm too lazy to practise it. The downside is also that I have virtually no backhand volley. The double-hander stil doesn't come intuitively, and I can't hit a one-hander so I'm just flustered at the net when my partner tries to make me hit a backhand volley. Please freaking don't. It's super embarrassing and 9 out of 10 times the ball ends up hitting nothing but frame and dropping into the net.

***

In other news...sigh.

I had a nice dinner with Wei Chuen tonight, after which we went to Ngee Ann City and walked around. I bought two new books. I'm happy with my purchase.

Miami is starting soon. Hopefully Roger does well there again.