Thursday, February 25, 2010

Random Thoughts On... Adelaide

So after being in Adelaide for 6 full days, I thought it was high time to blog about the place. The following are pictures of the room:
(the room at an angle, and boy does it look kinda messy)

(the bed with ever faithful Elmo sleeping peacefully under the sleeping bag)

(and finally, last night's concoction that has a strange and uncanny resemblance to puke in a bowl. yum)

I would include pictures of the bathroom, but it scares me. Especially at night. The black toilet seat gives me the shivers. So in fact, I've taken to using the downstairs disabled bathroom which has a white toilet seat and is clean. I sense a trend appearing here. I seem to have a special connection with disabled toilets. Actually, when you think about it really closely, A LOT of people have connections with the disabled toilets. (*wink wink* hahaha. I know you got that reference.)

On the topic of toilets and bathrooms, sharing amenities with another person is an awkward business. For example, I have found myself in rather awkward situations where I have wanted to do my "stuff" whilst knowing the interconnecting door is not entirely soundproof. The solution? Loud music. I still don't know whether it works but it gives a heck of a lot of reassurance. Then again, I'm not sure whether she appreciates Lacrimosa blasting out in its full glory at 7:15 in the morning. Probably not.

I guess the inevitable question that might crop up is: How's Adelaide? What's it like compared to Melbourne?
I shall endeavour to answer both questions with simple comparisons:

Melbourne has trams with multiple tram lines.
Adelaide has trams with one tram line.

Melbourne has trams that either smell like sweat, BO or nothing.
Adelaide has trams that smell like poo.

Melbourne has China Town.
Adelaide has China Street.

Melbourne has Melbourne Cup.
Adelaide has Adelaide Cup.

You get the point. Adelaide's pretty much a mini-Melbourne. Although, bagging it as I did, I didn't give it fair justice. Adelaide does in fact have its perks.

For instance, the other day I wandered into China Street and saw an awesome sign that immediately made my stop in my tracks: "Any servings for only $6.50". That's right. It was, self-served servings of asian things, ONLY FOR $6.50. That meant, limitless amounts of fatty spring rolls, chow mein etc. FOR ONLY $6.50. Sorry Melbourne, Adelaide just wins out in terms of gastronomic needs. Good work Adelaide.

Just as a 'btw', I think I should add that my puke-in-a-bowl concoction was dangerous stuff. For the past two days that I've been consuming it, it's given me lots of trouble down under. I have now used the law building, the Barr Smith Library, the Napier Building and numerous other locations' restrooms. Actually, while using the Napier Building's restrooms, the lights turned off for some reason. It scared the bejeebus out of me and I started to worry since I couldn't find the flush button. However, the block mobile's awesome yellow light helped immensely.

I have a feeling it was the egg. Just my sneaky suspicion.

Look out for more updates coming your way. Ooh. I think I'll be coming from the 6th to the 8th! :D



Friday, January 29, 2010

Commentary Challenge #1

Wensi Cai's relatively short poem, "ICU (for now)", discusses the impermanence of life and a mortal's vulnerability to death. Written in second person, the poem focusses on a teenager who so unexpectedly, is brought to the precipice between life and death. The title of the poem holds a meaning two-fold. At first glance, the title reflects the setting of the poem: the Intensive Care Unit at a hospital. However, the title also represents the precarious balance between living and dying as it can be read as: "I see you (for now)". Although there is no set rhythm or rhyme, Cai uses other literary features such as alliteration and symbolism to form a work of wistful reflection.

The poem's first two lines open with the vivid image of the metaphorical "ribbon of life" in motion. The repetition of the sound 'tw' in the movements, "twirling and twisting", is relatively lyrical and firm, displaying the rapturousness and vivacity of life. This image is starkly contrasted with the next two lines as the very same ribbon is cut by The Knife. Even the motion of the ribbon is juxtaposed with the words, "flowing and falling" which uses a rather soft enunciation of the 'f' sound. At this point, the reader must question the significance of the capitalized "The Knife". We cannot fail to recognize how easily The Knife "sliced smooth" the ribbon, suggesting that even a seemingly secure and spirited life force can be brought to its end by unannounced instrument.

The next part of the poem takes on a rueful tone as the extinguishment of youth is contemplated on. Here, life and in particular a youthful life, is symbolized by a "freshly grown" flower. The word "just" emphasizes the short life of the newly-formed entity. Like how leisurely and carelessly we may bend down to pluck the head of flowers, a sprightly life may be put out. This life, so unknowingly precious like "shiny dark gems", will become worthless, fit for only wasteland. The speaker of the poem seems to be aware of her loss as the relatively alien emotions of pain and fear overcome her. Her world that was so free and expanse has now been confined to a single place: her hospital bed. Perhaps, like the speaker of the poem, we will only be aware of how cherished our own existence is when we are on the brink of losing it.

The ending lines of the poem leave us at the bedside of the teenager. The uncertainty of her fate is perceptible by the question, "how much time is there left?" The teenager has almost no control over her being with machines controlling her functions. This is only emphasized by the lone sounds of "beep beep!". The teenager can only wait and hope.

Cai has produced a poem that is not only a reminder of the brittleness of a seemingly invincible youthful life but also an elegy of the loss of the life. Although it may be inevitable for youth and life to be taken away from us, we should enjoy both to the fullest.

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I thought I'd never do it... but I did. Good god, I hope I captured the right things Wensi. :/
Ahem. SL English through and through. :D

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Random Thoughts On... mangos and oranges.

So I had a run this morning. I thought I was pretty well geared up with my high-impact sports bra and running shorts. I tied up my hair and put a headband on so that nothing could stop me. For the first few kms, nothing did. That is, until I got onto Toorak Rd.

Now, Toorak Rd. has a lovely set of commercial settings like the BMW dealer, some kitchen display place and a whole bunch of cafes and furniture shops. The main point is that these places have nice reflective windows. Being the vain creature that I am, I like to check out my legs and overall being to see how I fare. So I did, and boy did I get a sight.

Let me put it out on public display: there is NOTHING good about having big mangos. Some particular people might beg to differ (for reasons I have no idea about) so for the sake of fairness, let's do a list of pros and cons.

Pros For A Set Of Yummy Mangos:
  • They apparently "look good" and might draw the attention of the opposite sex. (Is this really a good thing anyway?!)
  • No need for the kiwi augmentation.
  • Extra boost in self-esteem in the form of more mammary gland fat??? (Not quite sure about this I did a quick google and some women claim that.)
  • Bikinis look good. :)
Count: 4

Cons For A Set Of Yummy Mangos:
  • The need for extra support when doing strenuous activities such as sport. I mean otherwise they just flop around uncomfortably, making it look like you're juggling a pair of fruit.
  • Dresses that are normally supposed to sit at a decent and respectable height get hitched up an extra two centimeters, causing it to NOT be decent and respectable. (Cotton On dresses are a perfect example of this.)
  • Some tops might be extra-tight.
  • The phenomenon of being able to see all of you feet when you look down just does not apply with a prominent chest.
  • Bikini tops might move around (a lot) after frolicking in the waves and therefore might cause embarrassing scene.
  • May attract unwanted attention.
Count: 6

It's obvious. The cons for having a prominent chest just far outweighs the pros. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not about to downsize my mangos or anything. I still have to get that sideburn removal before then. :D

The point is, if you have a small set of kiwis be happy! One person at least envies you for them, not the other way around (My jealousy may have manifested over the years in interesting ways as some of you might know.). If you are a fellow person with a decent size of mangos, at least you can be happy that lots of people pay loads of dough to have what you so naturally possess.

Here ends the words of your wise mango guru.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

A First

Heck, I was born to be a lemming. I guess that's why I'm being swept (again) into the whole blogging business. I mean, practically everyone has a blog. So I thought, hey, I'm sure some person out there would be interested in reading my ridiculous rants... right?

Don't underestimate the world wide web. There could be some stalker out there who'll google this blog and begin to doggedly follow every single word. He/she will begin to harbour this unhealthy fascination with me and try to hunt me down. I'll find roses, love-sick poems and Lindt chocolates in my mail box (all from said stalker). Being the unsuspecting damsel, I'll think it was sent by a reincarnation of Tram Boy. Fantasies of tall, good-looking blonde boys will run wild as I try to discover who my admirer is...

Don't underestimate my imagination.

Also, don't underestimate my need for romance/love. Under the facade of a pretty and innocent young girl lies a lustful succubus who's just waiting to pounce on some poor person. Sorry to break it you guys. I might just turn into that party-animal in university (Heaven forbid. I think my ancestors might shed some tears for the family line.).

Frankly, I can't be bothered writing anymore. In fact, I find it quite amazing how V, Frothy, W, V, A, Fiona, W, S, H, S (Dear god, how long is this list?!) and whoever else can write for more. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. At the moment, I'm trying to milk this post as much as I can. It isn't really working.

So there we go: this blog's inaugural post. Yes, I am quite aware that I have many other blogs and I would continue writing in them if I still remembered the username and password. Sadly, I don't. Shed a tear or two on behalf of me, okay?

(Happy New Years to all of you reading this.)