nondescript in blue

Thursday, August 31, 2006

And it's that time of the year again. When I have to haul my reluctant self out of tropical domestic bliss and switch over to the spartan, daily-struggle-for-survival life of a... ah, you know what, re-adapting isn't that big a deal, as long as you think of "daunting" as "challenging" and then transmute that to "exciting". And living abroad has its (many) compensations. Oh yes.

So, flight information -

Departure: 5.05pm from Terminal 2
Flight: SQ 30 (SIA hooray)

I'm quite convinced that at least one (not both, please) of my two bags will go MIA somewhere along the three transits on my itinerary. I have even less faith in US Airways than I have in Northwest (SIA, alas, only takes me as far as LA, where I have to take a connecting flight to Philadelphia). Under the current circumstances, I rather think I have good cause for dread.

The weather seems particularly keen on showering me with more rain and thunder and lightning in two days than I'd ever see in four months at Providence. By all means, bring it on. I am actually regretting not paying as much attention to yesterday's grand thunderstorm as it deserved, considering that it's probably going to be my last proper thunderstorm for months.

words were spilled on Thursday, August 31, 2006

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Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Flitting around from this and that in a state of semi-panic seems to be the main thing occupying my time in these final, too-short weeks. I confess a certain reluctance to leave - yet there's an odd (and regrettable, because it's really very silly) sense of shame to this whole business of being so hopelessly provincial and limited in my outlook that I shudder to think of departing this cosy home existence to resume life in a challenging foreign environment.

This is the downside of associating with go-getting, cosmopolitan, opportunity-seizing types when you are not a go-getting, cosmopolitan, opportunity-seizing type. You can't decide whether to be feel inspired or inadequate.

Lately, I seem to be falling prey to sentimentality and nostalgia and the futile search for fixed points in a world where everything changes. It's not my usual practice to be maudlin about relationships eroding away with time and indifference, but that, I suppose, has changed too. I have never been more glad to be home - things like meeting my maternal grandparents in Malaysia, family dinners, hanging out with friends, shopping with my sister have taken on a greater - ah, emotional dimension? Layer of meaning? Forgive this sentimental twaddle. As usual, I blame caffeine - this stuff has some definite adverse psychological effects.

words were spilled on Wednesday, August 23, 2006

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Tuesday, August 15, 2006

'You two infinitely stupid male creatures!'

3 weeks remaining, and I've discovered another distraction in the form of BBC 7 radio plays. Currently listening to the radio dramatisation of Pygmalion - and it's been great, every character as I'd imagined (given the limitations of my experience with London accents). I am especially enjoying Simon Cadell's portrayal of Professor Higgins. Every time he comes on I can't help but smile. :)

words were spilled on Tuesday, August 15, 2006

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Friday, August 04, 2006

I'm officially done with lab work for this summer. Though I woke up this morning with the notion that 3 Mongolian warlords (in full battle regalia, no less) had commissioned me to finish research on transgenic Drosophilia for their own nefarious purposes, and since my home wasn't sufficiently equipped, I was obliged to return to the lab. I remember being extremely excited about the work - part of the reason may have been due to the sheer amounts of cash they gave me as a deposit, with which I stuffed a drawer to overflowing. Unfortunately my sister ruined one of the cell cultures I brought home, which meant re-culturing from scratch. (Though I would have done it in any case - the cells didn't look too healthy.) Angsted briefly about ethical implications vs private gain, but I was more worried about being caught transacting the fruits of agency-funded research with external parties, hence violating the terms of my contract.

The dream (yes, it was a dream) never really resolved to my satisfaction, but I'd like to think that it reflects the general feeling of ambivalence at the end of my practical attachment.

words were spilled on Friday, August 04, 2006

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Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I am using my lunch break to blog instead of being a good little scientist and reading research papers or analysing data. I ought to be ashamed, but in my defense, I just came across these rather diverting articles while doing my customary surf through sci/tech news:

Black box of our lives

If we don't know where we are, where will we be?

Both articles discuss the impact of technology on human memory - whether it reduces the burden on our memories, allowing us to better use our minds; or whether over-dependence on computers, mobile phones etc. to store information is causing the atrophy of our retentive abilities. Personally, I suspect I'll be lost without technological aid - I can never bring myself to trust my powers of mental recall without ensuring that there's plenty of back-up, on paper or otherwise. Or perhaps I've just grown lazy.

Is technology driving us all to distraction?

I recognise quite a few of the symptoms described in this article. In myself. Oh dear.

words were spilled on Wednesday, August 02, 2006

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Tuesday, August 01, 2006

By week's end, I will have finished my attachment - something that seems to surprise nearly everyone at the lab. The common consensus is that it barely feels like I have been around that long. To which I usually smile and say something along the lines of, "Yes, it certainly seems that way, doesn't it?" I suppose the passing of time may have made a bit more of an impression on my lab-mates if I had. Feels like you've only just arrived yesterday. Judging by the amount of progress I've made in the preceding 7 weeks - that sounds like a reasonable statement.

Well, well. It wouldn't do to spend my last few days wallowing in dysphoria when there's still much to learn, and make up for.

Saturday was spent in complete sloth of the worst, most aimless type. Sunday was a massive improvement - an afternoon ramble with JY, Enjun and my Nikon D70s through the Botanic Gardens that yielded fascinating finds like a Hidden Gate, a Red Brick Path, the extremely tacky but hilarious Evolution Garden, and Pretty Resurrected Lillies. I wore a long pink skirt and footwear that couldn't be called extremely practical. Unsurprisingly, I tended to forget the skirt whenever the photography urge came calling - doing as I would have done in sensible jeans, i.e. crouch on the muddy ground, angling for a satisfactory shot, heedless of the mud and dirt invading the hem of my skirt.

In the evening, I attended an outdoor performance by this local band called TIEN. Strangely enough, it was my uncle who initiated it - apparently one of the members of the band was my aunt's colleague. There was a break in the first half, during which a guy in the audience, publicly and emotionally proposed to his long-time sweetheart. Of course, the band followed that up with a suitably romantic number. I was actually moved, if you will believe it.

Photos are, as usual, up on Flickr.

words were spilled on Tuesday, August 01, 2006

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