i know you'll call it angst

Isaac Tan is becoming extremely prosperous. And no not in the pocketbook sense. Sorry I work in a PR firm not a bank.

One thing though I've gotten really tired of people giving me an incredulous look and asking what I'm doing in a PR firm when I'm a history major; shouldn't I be in a museum or something. What do I look like to you, dinosaur bones? Singaporeans (and probably people the world over) have this bloody functional fixation that seems to limit itself to liberal arts students. Find a quantum mechanical fizzy sigtzy student working in a bank, accounting firm, pr firm, marketing, finance whatever and it probably wouldn't raise any eyebrows. Swap the former with an english literature major and you'd probably be going "get thee behind me hippie!" in your head.

You know these days it really seems like nobody, absolutely nobody believes in chasing a dream anymore. Or at least a dream that doesn't involve chalking up obscene bank accounts and living the "high" life. If I went and told you what I wanted most in this world is to die knowing I'd given everything to make a difference in somebody's life, you'd scoff at me or worse, you'd give me that patronising look and smile like you meant it. Call me naive, call me a child, call me a fool, someday I'll change the world. I'll prove to you that prosperity has nothing to do with the size of your bank account. I'll prove to you that money only makes the world go around if we let it.

So help me God.

bliss

I don't know why but yesterday was one of the most feel good days I've had in a while. The prospect of cooking just brightened up my day so much and I think I was practically clipping my heels together while lugging that basket around in Cold Storage. Buttons, shitakes, tomatoes, bacon, spaghetti and.....cabonara sauce. Sorry la I haven't figured out exactly how you're supposed to make your own sauce yet.

So anyway the ingredients to a feel good night Isaac style:

1 cup Broken Social Scene and assorted chillout music

1 handful spaghetti and bouncy cooking

1 pinch caterwauling on guitar and

1 Constant Gardner dvd

Oh and we mustn't forget the ice cream. I could get used to this

wilbur's amazing dandelions

Hello people its been a long time since I've updated so just in case you haven't been privy to my whining bitching and general all round complaining I am:

1. An intern. I could regale you with horrific tales of late nights and toner poisoning but I suppose you've probably heard it all from every other tertiary student you know. Work has made me a victim of a paradox. These days I love weekdays because they make the weekends feel so damn good. Ditto any public holidays! And I hate the weekends because they make Monday to Friday feel like the devil's own. Oh and also I'm on this mailing list where people keep sending this story and that about this silly person buying this other silly person. Everyone else on the list seems to go googoogaga over them but they make me yawn and go looking for the lemon cream biscuits in the pantry. Ah welll guess I won't be contributing to that beach house guys.

2. Home alone!!!! If anyone were to need a picture entitled "SLOB", my living room would be the perfect muse. As of Saturday there are (1) piles of newspapers all over the floor; (2) a pile of dry crumpled laundry on the armchair; (3) a pile of WET crumpled laundry on top of the dry; (4) open unfinished beer cans; (5) apple strudel flakes; (6) unused plate and cutlery; and (7) a box of strawberry Pocky courtesy of Amanda Lin. Oei my t-shirt stinks of cigarette smoke now can?

3. Mr Anywhere!! For once my driving license entitles me to more than grovelling at my dad's feet for the car or bumping around jungles in an LSV. For the first time in my life my rather random craves and urges are finding fulfilment and gosh it feels good. Supper, ice cream and night safari anytime people!! I have no idea how I'm going to get used to the damn bus once my parents are back.

4. A disappointed academic. I did well. I really did. But not well enough. And the worst part is that I missed the deadline to get my papers reviewed because of my dumbass goldfish memory. Not sure how much good it would've done even if I had had them reviewed but still....ah well outta my head.

I'd go on about how the rebel inside of me starts screaming everytime people around me start going on about how money is all that matters but I'll rein it in and leave you with this haiku instead:

Haikus are easy
But sometimes they don't make sense.


Refrigerator