Entry 64: Untitled II

It just felt right that I'm sitting in my office, knowing that all my work was completed 3 days ago, and that I'm just sitting here doing the extra work that I don't exactly have to finish. See the art of proper slacking is not to not work at all, because then people think you're dead weight. The best form of slacking is to cheong for the first 25% until you get awesome results, then slowly release that information to your supervisors at a steady pace. And once in a while giving him great discoveries that you "just found". It's like scaling Mt. Everest, and then slowly take the flying-fox down. Might take you a year to get down, but at least you don't have to do shit.

Anyway, yes the sun is shining, my shoes are wet, my hair is cut, and the air smells fresh, like fresh cut grass and wet cotton jacket. So the Chinese say, when Heaven deems that the time is ripe, the Earth is in an advantageous position and People are in harmony with what you're doing. (Frankly Chinese saves so much bloody time, just six words to describe more than what I just said.) Hence I am blogging.

Or maybe it's the super dark coffee that I drank from the machine. I suspect I poured myself a big cup from the espresso spout, hence the supercharged energy levels, but who knows. Maybe it's my wet shoe smell, I don't care.

My summer in Aachen is coming to an end, the final weekend I get to spend in Europe. And in Berlin, no less. At the heart of Fortress Europa. I have to say I'm glad to leave this place, not because I'm an ingrate, but because I have been so half-settled for the past 3 months it didn't quite feel like home. It's like setting up a tent for 3 weeks, you're glad you have a tent but you know you would have built yourself a nice hut if you were staying out for a longer period of time.

So this summer has been the best one I've ever had. Of course, granted the Singaporean "summers" are only a fucking month long, and it's always laden with homework, and so it's not too hard to beat that, but I am really grateful for all that is happening.

I have really supportive parents, who despite the cost of sending me here for research, told me to go ahead even though I said it wasn't necessary. Therefore I have to say that every single picture, every sightseeing place, every memory, every emotion I felt while travelling, should all be dedicated to them. It was my dad's wish to see the world, which he kind of wished he could fulfill to its greatest potential until us pesky kids came along, so I'm kind of like his Mars Explorer. I guess the next logical thing for me to do is to get a good job, pay them back double of what I spent and send them packing on a year-long trip to Europe.

I also asked them to write me their story of their love life, about how they met. I guess it was a good exercise because (1) I get to know more about them; (2) it makes me feel closer to know how they fell in love; and (3) would give them a chance to reminisce about their loving past. So you guys should try it too. It got a little awkward when I first read the story but unless your parents put in TMI-grade details (mine didn't, thank god), it becomes a nice story, part of family history.

Secondly, I am in love with an amazing girl. Lucy once asked me (albeit while we were slightly high from beer) what I saw in Julie. I never really gave an answer because I was slightly intoxicated as well, but I guess in retrospect I would answer her with the fact that she makes me feel special in her own way. Even if it's quarreling about trivial things or talking about stupid daily activites and raging about Koreans, I just feel special. So yes, that's one important reason why I love her. Also because I get to mooch off free lodging from her and badmouthing her here would be disastrous, but that is way down the priority list.

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DISCLAIMER: Slightly bigoted entry full of personal opinion, stop here if you are easily offended.
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Speaking of Koreans, did I mention I really dislike them. I know I'll sound like a bigot saying all this, what with me being categorised under "General Asian". I don't really care if people mistake me as Korean or Japanese, I barely feel offended, I just feel that Korea is a pretty much self-absorbed nation. My first impression of their narcissism (narcisstic or narcissistic? God I hate this word more than Mississippi.) came during some Korea-Brazil friendly match.

My dad barely watches football matches, but when he read the papers on the match he was cursing at Koreans. So what happened was, it was during winter in Korea, the Brazilians had to go over for a friendly match. And them being from equatorial (or near) regions they weren't used to the cold, so the poor sods ran about in long sleeves and gloves and panting clouds of vapour. So one small accident occurred (Brazil barely fielded their first team anyway). Wasn't even that serious an offence, just an accidental trip with theatrics.

AND THEN THE BLOODY KOREANS DEMANDED A PENALTY. Like, really fervently fighting for one, arguing with the referee and whatnot. I mean seriously, friendly match, accidental foul, visitors from foreign countries, horrible climate for them, just cut them some slack. BUT NO. They needed national pride, to win against Brazil's half-second team in a friendly match. Fortunately, Korea got beaten 2-0.

And then comes fan death, which I recently learnt about. So they believe that sleeping in an enclosed room (doors and windows closed) with a fan on causes death. They have scientists writing technical journals to prove this fact. Reasons for death include: oxygen molecule-splitting fan blades, vacuum-creating fans, hypothermia, and something about the heat from the motor summoning a demon. Of course I kid about the last point, but Wiki for a nice laugh.

Best part is, when people ask, so why is it fan death only occurs in Korea? Explanation: Korean blood is unique. Uniquely stupid I have to say. These people make me rage so much. And I didn't even start on how they claim Confucius was Korean. You know what, I bet Hitler and Mussolini were Korean too, spawns of the devil, the whole lot. I'm not trying to start a hate thread here, there's things about Singaporeans that annoys me too, just that Koreans annoy me more. The most, in fact. Of course I acknowledge the hot chicks and the bottled kimchi and the gay-looking TVXQ singers*, but I haven't seen what else major has come out of Korea besides arrogance and chewing gum.

Looking back at this post, I seem to have sidetracked way more than I expected. But it's called Untitled, so no holds barred. No pictures too, not gonna put pictures of Koreans here. Also I already put a disclaimer, so if you're gonna rage, you're just a dumbass for reading on.

*And the devil-spawned fangirls would say, "Oh you're just jealous because you don't look half as good as them." Fuck off. You don't look half as good as their chicks either, plastic or not. Anyone can grow long hair, bleach it and soak their face in peroxide, but not everyone can sleep in a room with an electric fan. I can, can they?

Entry 63: Paris, je likes you

Now Reading: The Language Instinct by Stephen Pinker

To me, Paris is like Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn. Everyone wants to say they read it, they want to say that they really find the book intriguing, but deep inside some people found it boring.

See, contrary to what movies and books would have you think, not everyone falls in love with Paris. I didn't. I like Paris, it's a beautiful place, food is good, pace is slow, art and music is everywhere, Stendhal bombs lurking at every corner (more so along the Axe Historique), but somehow, I didn't fall in love with that place.

I mean, I did see the Louvre, Jardin des Tuileries, L'Académie française, Arc de Triomphe, Château de Versailles, Tour Eiffel, Notre Dame de Paris and probably much, much more. But I'm not one of those people who'd go to Paris and go, "Oh my God, I'm so in luuurrve! I want to be married on the Eiffel Tower!" Would be a sweet idea, but it just didn't quite click for me. I'm the guy who didn't think much of MJ's death, remember?

Maybe it was the general feeling that sometimes, Paris didn't bother to make tourists feel welcome. The way signs around the major sightseeing spots occasionally did not have English translations, the way the Metro gets littered all over, the way the locals look at you just because you don't speak all nasally.

Nonetheless, Paris was beautiful. I can see why people fall in love with this place, people are beautiful, food is actually pretty good, the general allure of Parisian French floating around you like muzak, architecture is definitely amazing to say the least.

So anyway, once we arrived at Paris, we took the Metro to our hotel located right in between two main subway lines. First visit was to the Jardin des Tuileries, where lots of fountains were. And then on to the Louvre, where the infamous 5 glass pyramids lie in its courtyard. The "Axe historique" (historical axis) runs straight through, on which lies the Obelisque, Arc de Triomphe, the big glass Pyramid of Le Louvre, La Defense, and many more things. Wikipedia has a nice diagram of it.

So at night we popped over to the Eiffel Tower, where the tacky lights came on but somehow people cheered. It retains more of the allure when it's just lit up by floodlights, trust me. Having sparkly lights makes it look like a French techno concert. Battery went dead that night, was pissed but no choice.

Next day was to Château de Versailles, where the infamous Treaty of Versailles was signed in its Hall of Mirrors. Maybe they wanted the Germans to reflect well on what they did. In retrospect, maybe the Big Five should have reflected too, because Hitler rose to power partly due to this. The place was nice, the Rococo (Yes, Julie, thanks to you) architecture and decor was a little too much to handle sometimes. Fountains were nice but not worth the 7€ we paid for. Although all in all, was a trip well spent on.

Then I bought macarons! Not the bloody American coconut ones. Those little pink capsule-shaped cream-filled wafer things I found in a shop in San Fran. Only this time I found it in McCafe. Not the most obvious places to buy them, but still it was rare to find them. Didn't find them anywhere else in Paris because my friends preferred to rush to sightsee all the time. I prefer to take my time sampling local foods. And pay a bit more to sample local foods. So next week Berlin will be all alone. GANZ ALLEIN!

Later that night we went to Montmartre, or more specifically the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. Was a nice place to look out to the city centre upon, gave me the feeling of looking down upon San Francisco. After all, major cities all look the same from a hill at night. Had foie gras, veal and creme caramel for dinner, which was awesome. Told people I had the most fantastic foie gras in California (The French Laundry), but of course some people in the group I went with sneered because they said foie gras in California doesn't count (speaking of which, have I ever blogged about French Laundry?). Oh well.

And thus concluded our weekend trip to Paris. I did not mention lots of things we visited or tried to do, but Paris is definitely worth a visit. Love it or not, it's your choice, but you can't convince me to.

Entry 62: You'll Never Walk Alone

Never thought I'd use that phrase, but hell, I didn't walk alone in Liverpool. My tour guide, Lucy, was totally awesome. She helped me pack my itinerary with museum visits, clubbing sessions, drinking, guided tours of haunted places and nice food. Well by nice food I actually mean fish & chips and Chinese dinner, but still great nonetheless.

So down to the nitty gritty. After travelling for at least 6 hours by train I finally arrived in Liverpool Lime Street, smelling of YSL and train seat leather. Tried to go to the toilet but remembered I had no pounds on me, so was bummered. Then finally saw her in the crowd and we proceeded to the hotel. Which fortunately was right smack in the middle of the city centre.

Then we had a Shiverpool tour, a tour of Liverpool's haunted places by these two people dressed as Goths or stuff like that. Tour was great, their acting was awesome, was totally engaged by them. The tour ended in the oldest (and supposedly haunted) pub in Liverpool, where they turned off the lights and did stuff to us. Well I didn't shit my pants but she almost did.

Of course, we went to Reflex at night, an 80's club. Which was also awesomising. Drank more than I ever had for the past few months, and I still remained sober throughout so it was ok. Went back, webcammed with Julie for a while, then we decided to drink coffee, take Paracetamol and watch Death Race. Didn't quite happen, we just crashed after 15 minutes.

And then it was a nice English breakfast in the morning. Blood sausage, bacon, orange juice, coffee, baked beans, tomato, sausages, mushrooms, the whole works, was great for hangovers but it didn't cure mine. Ended up suffering during our museum tour the next 5 hours. Felt better after a nice dinner at the Chinese restaurant. Was supposed to go clubbing again but we ended up reach Zach Braff-isms till 3am.

Then I had to leave early morning. Thus concludes a great weekend, a nice trip away from listening to ultrasonic frequencies and writing data down. Probably will go visit her someday again, if I'm rich enough. The other side of the Mersey that is.

Entry 61: Halfway There

So it's officially July 1st. The last I recalled, I skipped class on my birthday (whom I mindfucked those who can't remember to think it's on June 10th), went for some damn seminar, played pool that night with Pascal, Stephen, David and Theresa, then went home to sleep early. And of course, called Julie in the midst of all this non-busy stuff. Yes, I'm calling her by her name now because she was complaining about it.

So anyway back to my point. It's officially July now, meaning I have about 4 weeks to complete my paper, my poster and pass my German exam. And in the meanwhile travel to Liverpool to meet up with Lucy, then to Paris (provided those SOBs send me my tickets soon), and then finally to Montreal. I don't suppose I have time to squeeze in a Berlin trip, nor do I have the resources or energy. Kind of like travel fatigue is setting in.

Some people might think travel fatigue is lik getting sick of eating chocolate. Well guess what, buster, you CAN get sick of eating chocolate. Just so many things to see, so much to plan, and then you realise you don't really have a place to call home except a really dirty dorm room with dust bunnies all over the floor, the four walls all empty except for the one corner with the stolen laundry rack and your luggage half open on the floor. The sink with its burnt out bulb, the cupboard with its non-existent hangers.

On the bright side, at least in a month's time I will soon have a place where I can sleep all I want (hopefully), watch all the movies I want and cook my own food. German microwaved dinners may taste great but there's only so much Huhnerfrikassee and Rindergoulasch you can eat.

Entry 60: Vienna

If Singapore was a strategy game, it would be Age of Empires in Campaign mode, where I start off stuck on a small island and telling myself, "Fuck, now I have to upgrade enough to build a harbour." Eventually I do, but not before everyone starts invading me.

If Aachen was a strategy game, it would be like SimCity in tutorial mode, everything nice and neatly packed, city centres clearly outlined by the surrounding roads.

But Vienna. If Vienna was a strategy game, it would be Rise of Nations, with me on Novice mode using cheat codes. Universities, castles, museums, parks, churches, cathedrals all gathered in one place, concentrated in the city centre. Karlskirche, Belvedere Palace, Stephansdom, Staatsoper, the Danube river, all these things you read about in Frommer's, all plopped nicely in one place.

No in-between transitions from site to site, just hardcore pounding, more than enough to cause Stendhal's syndrome. Didn't quite get the chance to go to Schönbrunn Palace because I had to hurry back to the hotel to get ready for Tiesto's concert (which by the way, rocked my balls off) in the Pyramide. Perhaps my only regret going to Vienna was not taking an extra Monday off work so I could sightsee more, but I guess, like the French Laundry, some things in life are always worth leaving something to be desired.

And by the way, if West Lafayette was a strategy game, it would be DotA, because it sucks so bad.

Entry 59: Pretension

Talking to Biquan last night and Pascal this afternoon made me realise that there’s something that I hate more than emos or My Chemical Romance, and that’s pretentious people. And most recently, who spend a short time overseas, on vacation or studies, and think they are experts on their language and culture. The reason why some people go to Disneyland for 2 weeks and come back with a American accent. The reason why some people go to France and come back adding et toi to every damn sentence. The reason why.. I’m going on a rant here.

I guess as I broaden out my hatredscope, to gain a full panoramic view of the pretentiousness that some people put up, it also includes people who: 1) take a year in a subject and think they are experts, and 2) people who read one book and think they know fuck-all. Ever had people take Psychology 101, and then try to lecture you on Sigmund Freud? Or known someone who barely took a year in linguistics and try to tell you how certain German words should or should not be pronounced? Or how about having an acquaintance who claims that Communism failed because it should?  The way they spill out case study examples to prove their point? I’m sure you have.

I guess interacting with Pascal and Justaman has humbled me. Pascal is probably a genius, and every time I talk to him I learn something more. No Tuesdays With Morrie (which frankly doesn’t appeal to me that much)-esque lessons to learn, just things that slip past because of our own myopia.

And as usual, rant over. Fatigue gets the best of us sometimes, and turns us into horrible beasts who bitch and moan about everything.

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Aachen has been pretty good so far. Seminars and boring workshops aside, I am slowly getting used to the roads. The way the cobbled streets ambush you with hidden potholes and loosened tiles, the way the Kaiserdom stands proudly with Charlemagne’s mansion, Vodafone, Dolce & Gabbana and Sparkasses taking the place of where peasants used to live. The way every morning a big yellow DHL truck parks beside the fountain and statue of Charlemagne.

If he were alive, he’d probably throw his holy grenade.

Just got off the phone with Justaman, who seems to be relacking one corner at home before moving to Montreal. Had an in-depth discussion about the Twilight saga, and how I think her eye-candy has a kiam pah face. Nothing like good old fashioned movie conflicts to bring spice to the conversation.

Haven’t bitten my nails since after finals. I have to keep them long enough for next semester, so that I’ll have more to chew for my 18 credits. Can’t quite remember what I planned for next semester, not quite bothered about studies as much as I should. The European pace of life is slowly swallowing me, maybe.

Oh, yeah, forgot to mention, people who keep bragging about one-upping others on credit hours are also the bane of my existence.

Entry 58: Aachen Week 2

I have to do things by week now because it's hard to keep track of what's happening everyday, and I am a pretty busy man. Maybe not too busy, just pretty. A pretty man.

So I spent most of my time studying German since the programme has already started, so it's a 9 week countdown from now. Countdown to Montreal with Justaman. Bought a bicycle for 50 Euros, much cheaper than buying monthly bus tickets. Also good exercise, which I need, and unfortunately I had to forgo my running shoes because of the weight.

Bought 2 books, Stephen's Clarke's Merde Actually and Talk To The Snail. I highly recommend it, because it is too damn funny. Read it with a pinch of salt and you'll be fine.

Justaman is going back to Matàne (damn French accents taking me so fucking long to find in character map) for the whole of next month till July, so I'm glad I'm working everyday to take my mind off things. Meanwhile, if you haven't already noticed, there's some photos that I added. The rest of them are on my Facebook album.

So if you thought this entry was boring, it isn't, I'm just slightly hungover from the party last night with some Americans, Persian and German chicks. Parties are pretty much the same everywhere so nothing much to write about. Also will be busy planning my Amsterdam, Vienna and Belgium trips.

Entry 57: Aachen Days 2-5

Since arriving, been mostly trying to buy my pillow for sleeping. Kopfkissen, the German word is. Other than that, had German beers with Pascal, my local buddy, as well as Milchkaffee, a nice blend of 50/50 coffee and milk. Vastly different from kopi-c, which is milk added to coffee.

Kind soul offered me to have dinner at his place, where I helped prepare crepes and this awesome sauce with onions, tomatoes, champignons and ham with creme fraiches. Tasted awesome. Great cook, he is.

Also, just to try out what the difference is, I had some Asian food. Tastes a lot different from what I've ever eaten because of the freshness of the ingredients as well as the subtle differences between the taste of the vegetables from a totally different region. Was really good, spicy but good. Also had my first decent semi-conversation with the locals in German, albeit in short sentences.

Bought Printen, Aachener Printen to be more exact. Not really a fan of it I have to say, and I already bought 2 huge blocks. Nevertheless, these things shall last me through 2 months. Along with bananas, apples, Rittersport chocolate (awfully cheap here) and Magdalena cakes. Finally obtained a long enough Ethernet cable, didn't manage to find a headset with a microphone so I have to blare into my computer screen for people to hear me.

Just called Justaman and my parents, so life is good. Not to worry, if you were. Shame on you, if you weren't. I'm human too.

Entry 56: Arriving in Aachen

So the past two days have been a mad rush, arriving in Aachen, meeting up with Pscal, my buddy, met up with Stefanie (however it's spelt here) and this other Michigan dude for lunch, moved into my new room.

Totally felt bummed out. Because I arrived with USD$20 and CND$15 I had absolutely no means of calling people, buying food, or going on the internet. No phone, no means of communication, no food, no water. No cash, meaning I can't pay rent. No Internet, meaning I can't check my credit card PIN status. No credit card, meaning I can't draw cash. See where the cycle ends? It doesn't. And I was in shambles.

So I had to scout 5 banks, each one telling me it's impossible to withdraw money without my PIN. Until CitiBank came to save my life. Almost cried out of relief, because no cash = no rent = no place to stay. On second thoughts maybe back to Rimouski for me in that case. Or Montreal for 2 months.

So I'm glad it's all settled. Had Cordon Bleu Schnitzel when I first came here, awesomely tasty. Then I had a horrible tube of Pringles chips for dinner. Used my fucking USD$20 to use the internet for 2 hours. Luckily today wasn't as bad, got to buy some cinnamon rolls, settled my rent, and whatnot. Also bummed in an internet-cafe for 3 hours.

More updates after the jump.

Entry 55: Day 4-7

They say good things come in trees, like apples or durians or the CB-plant (which actually is a bush). Sometimes good things come in threes too, like spending $300USD on a flight to Canada, having 3 days left in Rimouski to visit and eat and cook, also 3 types of trees like apples or durians or the CB-plant. Couldn't be arsed to think of another 3.

Anyway, bumming around the whole day in people's beds while they go to work is an awesomely rude thing to do. Rude, but still awesome. So to compensate I cooked. Teriyaki cream sauce chicken breast with salmon in mushroom cream sauce. Also vegetables sauteed in garlic salt. What more can a host ask for, except maybe a week's rent.

Also, note to self: KFC here is infinitely better-tasting than the Lafayette ones. The servers are also infinitely hotter, much to the discontent of my host, whom I shall call Justaman for easy reference. They also give a huge pot of brown chicken gravy sauce stuff which frankly goes well with just about anything.

So for one night we crashed at Motel de la Mer, since Justaman never had a chance to stay in one near the sea. Also celebrated her birthday with local devil's food cake and sushi again. Second note to self: spring rolls are meant to be eaten hot-crispy, not frozen-crispy.

Visited the local modern art museum, learnt a lot about ice hockey, mostly in French. Obtained a stash of postcards, so Joan if you're reading this, I will send them to you once I find out how to send stuff in Aachen.

Sometimes waking up with someone beside you is a nice feeling, instead of the usual notes and textbooks that you piled up on one side of the bed before you slept because you were too lazy to shift them to the table. Textbooks don't make sleepy groaning noises, textbooks don't feel warm, and textbooks don't snore ever so lightly just because you took up the good side of the bed and pillow.

Also, textbooks don't make pancakes with maple syrup. And nobody loves textbooks.

P.S. I am typing this in Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof, to take the next train to Koln.