Amused Kitty…

Posted: October 12, 2006 in All and Sundry

Yeah. That’s me today.

The semester is almost over and I am currently drowning in papers to check.(god help me) I’m also in the process of editing a research study that made me almost go bonkers. Plus not to mention, an upcoming performance that I have to prepare for that’s currently hanging over my head like Plath’s BellJar. (sigh. talk about spreading myself too thin. i want a major vacation! NOW. the sea breeze is beckoning and all i can do is just sigh.)

Because I am currently not in the mood to write a long contemplative entry, I’m listing down two favorite blogposts for the day, courtesy of Johnnypanic and SundialGirl.

This entry entitled Bullshit Alert from SundialGirl who is in Singapore taking her graduate studies in NUS made me laugh. Specifically these lines:

Dear Indonesia. Please stop burning your forests. Trust me, I’m from the Philippines, the kaingin system is a load of bullcrap. You are killing my lungs because your goddamn smoke is blowing from Sumatra to Singapore and Malaysia, and now our PSI is over 80 and it’s not cool anymore because I am racking up a shitload of electricity bills by keeping my airconditioner on because I CAN’T BREATHE. And I can’t exercise in the morning. That is not a good thing. Thankyouverymuch. Love, Gabby. more

Harhar. Spoken by a tru-blu Filipina whiner. Hehe. But while the Kaingin system is not entirely “bullcrap” as most contemporary scientists have concluded, SundialGirl’s whining is still worth reading. Especially after having read several pages of research output discussing urban poverty and informal settlements, a simple rant from a cute graduate studies scholar stuck in a rich country like Singapore is like a breath of fresh air to me. (Goshes! It’s depressing to remember that I have long realized I can’t fight the poverty index. I am poor.*repeat again and again*)

Speaking of poverty and the plight of our country, Johnnypanic’s existential angsts about life after college (he’s just 21 and had just graduated a year ago) made my concerns about not having enough Capital to push me up and above the poverty level seem so serious and oh so close to uptight geriatric musing:

(from Fatal)

Where’s the passion, the wide-eyed, headfirst dive into those strange, mystifying, flesh-leaping dreams I use to have a couple of years ago? Where’s the daring, the piston-kick in the heart? I really could not live running on flatlines.

On my way back to our busy but rather morose faculty room, I committed the big mistake of dropping by the Dean’s office and picked up the newspapers. Big mistake. There on the blue leather couch I sat helpless, absorbing all the charges of bleakness coming off the words of today’s most defeatists of journalists. But who could blame such fatalism in a time and country like this? A surge of nausea advanced toward my direction and I felt the hairs on my arms stand. I was so bothered I almost threw the papers onto the helpless staff sitting by the table across me.

Getting back to my desk, I waded back to the sea of blue books and essays, picking up the pace as the thought of being marooned in this place was starting to scare me.

One year, and that’s about it. Or maybe I just spoke too soon. more

You’ve got to hand it to this guy. His lyrical prose is contagious that you either feel overtly morose after reading his entry because you feel exactly the same way or worse, feel better that you aren’t having the same dilemma. Either way, you still feel the groove; whatever tune it is, it’s not elevator music.

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