Morning has broken

And I am actually up. It's one of those mornings where you wake up far too early in spite of the fact that you went to bed much too late, and get up imediately because if you don't, there's no chance in hell you'll get up an hour later.

Anyways,

Got back about five hours ago from a decent night at Insomnia - spent it mostly speaking to randomers about everything and nothing. Met Elaine and Rebecca from Queen's which was cool, as well as some fellow Scandinavians from Nanyang. Most people were actually out at the same time, for once, which was pretty cool.

My whole "not going out this week" is turning out to be an entirely lost cause - after the USS Blue Ridge on Monday and last night, as well as rumors of goings-on this weekend... And I'm off to class.

Navy Boat Party 

If I was in the Navy, I'd be an alcoholic

When we were in Phuket 2 weeks ago, we ran into a 3 guys who recognized us from the Phi Phi island boat trip we had taken earlier that day. As it turned out, they were all in the US Navy, and their ship would be coming in to Singapore a week or two later. Emails were exchanged, and that's how Sonia, Tiffany, Claudine, Kara and I ended up with invites to a fancy schmancy cocktail party alongside the American ambassador to Singapore and a truckload of Navy officers. It was cool - we were welcomed by a row of uniformed men, and there was a jazz band on the deck, as well as unlimited quantities of finger food and champagne - the latter being something I unfortunately took advantage of too much. Early night for Marianne. But despite the premature ending, I had a lot of fun - it felt like we were in a movie, really. Very Top Gun minus the bad hair and synthesizer-rich music.

This morning, however, I learned that if you want to avoid a hangover, champagne should definitely be avoided.

Today is the day of my 13 seconds of fame, though - the TV show I was an extra on a few weeks back is being aired, so we're going to Oliviers to point and laugh. Marie from the Czech Republic is actually in the previews. On the topic of TV, I also found out that Gustav, the former ANSA president, that I kind of know, is on the Norwegian "The Apprentice" (or, "Kandidaten" as they call it there). Too funny. The best part is that the show wasn't able to attract someone "proper" to be the Donald Trump equivalent, so in the Norwegian version, people are getting fired by a woman who started a hairdressing chain... Not quite the same if you ask me.

Health Hazards in Singapore

Once again, I must reiterate the significance of slippery floors in Singapore. I simply do not understand why all apartments need to have the slick marble floors they all seem to have. Needless to say, tonight was another night where I managed to wipe out. I was so sad, I had just mixed myself a bucket replica (vodka, redbull and diet coke), when i did the bananapeel fall on the floor and collapsed. The worst, though, was that I was fully and entirely sober (i had drank one beer in advance). Oh, the embarrassment...

Quality night though, Cameron from Queen's is visiting right now, and it turns out he knows a guy who was also there, visiting Lukasz. Small world indeed.

Worst Busride Ever

In an attempt to save money and be adventurous, I thought I would take the 8 hour bus from Koh Samui to Phuket. Given that I had taken the 13 hour overnight bus from Bangkok a few days earlier, I wasn't really worried at all - the bus from Bangkok had reclining seats that would be comfortable even for the most hippo-like people, blankets, a snack and drink service, and its own bathroom.

Imagine my joy when I show up at 7 am at the Phuket bus station and am met by a bus with a similar layout as a school bus, with aircondition that I'm sure was a figment of the bus company's imagination. When I thought it couldn't get much better, A woman with a baby chose the seat next to mine and promptly the baby started screaming. Then, three sweaty, overweight, sleazy Germans sat down on the bus, each of them finding it perfectly appropriate to each fondle a young Thai girl each during the entire ride.

It was a long, long 8 hours.

Mountainbiking in Chiang Mai 

Thailand Statistics

Over the last 10 days, I have:

1. Seen countless ladyboys
2. Seen countless disgusting old men with young Thai girls
3. Seen countless disgusting old men with what they thought were young Thai girls (but were really ladyboys. Hah, in your face, disgusting old man.)
4. Witnessed a scooter accident
5. Been to the full-moon party on Koh Phangan
6. Lost my mobile phone (and my shoes) at the full-moon party on Koh Phangan
7. Tried flame juggling (and not spontaneously combusted - that's the shocking part)
8. Come to the realization that all alcoholic drinks taste infinitely better when drank from a plastic bucket
9. Taken my and others' picture with the most random people ever
10. Sat on an elephant
11. Seen an elephant boner
12. Mountainbiked in Chiang Mai
13. Swum in a waterfall
14. Whitewater rafted
15. Held a snake
16. Had a falcon on my shoulder
17. Slept on a minibus twice, regular bus once
18. Taken 6 ferries, 2 speedboats, 1 longtail
19. Taken one 8-hr "airconditioned" bus
20. Been to "The Beach" beach
21. Snokeled with colorful fish and squid
22. Met 2 forensic dentists in Phuket there to identify the dead after Tsunami.

Now I'm back in reality - sitting in my New Product Development class back in Singapore and waiting to hold a presentation on something I don't have the slightest idea about...

Longtail Boat on Koh Khao, Thailand 

Words that I like for no apparent reason

Brink
Sweltering
Concubine
Voyeuristic
Magnanimous
Bangladesh
Splice
Episcopalian

Especially sweltering.

Welcome to the Four Seasons Hospital

You know you're in Singapore when a hospital emergency room resembles a visit to a hotel lobby more than anything. Here, the waiting rooms are pleasantly decorated with leather armchairs and mock lush greenery, there are three times as many staff as patients, and waiting time at the emergency room amounted to a whopping 5 minutes. It was weird: Singapore Tatler was on the glass coffee table, the nurses politely offered us drinks while in the waiting room, and I swear I could hear "Isn't she lovely" in the background.

Now you may wonder why I ended up in this healthcare instution. As it turns out, my flatmate Sonia is violently allergic to something - after eating Indian food at the Holland Village Food Court, she came home and before she knew it she eyes the size of tennis balls. Since she had little success with her epi-pen, Dan, her and I went to the hospital, and after an injection and some gas-mask action she was doing a lot better.

Needless to say, my views on the Norwegian healthcare system, not to mention the Canadian one, have worsened significantly.

Birthdays

Birthdays are so disappointing. Even when you're old enough for it to "not matter", they somehow have a tendency to make you get excited and whatnot. Then, even days before the day, you end up with that sad feeling because you realise the fact that there really is nothing to get excited about.

I wish one could just control these things, prevent them from happening or something. Because after the disappointment, inklings of self-pity seem to sneak in, and really, there is nothing more shitty than self-pity, be it your own or others'.

Ladies, gentlemen: I'd like to introduce you to Cynical Marianne. Hopefully she won't stay long.

China 

At the flower market in Victoria Park, Hong Kong. High spirits and lots of optimism... 

Just Duke it

Oh my.

Well, I have finally returned to Singapore, and I am so happy this is where I chose to go on exchange. After having spent almost a week in Hong Kong and China, I have learned many things about myself, the most important one being that I don't want to go back. There were some really good times the first few days - making a scene at the flower market in Victoria park, ladies night at venue, seeing Jani again and Kebabs, but seriously: there's no place like home (or, somewhere where the weather is warmer, people are friendlier and life is a lot simpler).

China was a meagre affair, really. As mentioned before, Josh from Kaiping never showed (for unknown reasons), which resulted in a depressing lack of flamingo-watching and being shown around. Instead, there were some rather significant struggles, communication was practically impossible, given that about 1 in 250 people spoke English (and by spoke I mean spoke terrible) and signs were only in Chinese characters. Furthermore, we had little idea what to do and so on, so we cut the visit short and came back to Hong Kong after only one night in Foshan and one in Shenzhen. The highlight, however, was definitely the one dinner we had in Foshan. The food was spectacular, even though no one braved the camel dish, and we had a great time with the people who worked there. Foshan being the bustling cosmopolitan place that it is, we were the only people in the restaurant, and while the staff found us rather entertaining (they even had their picture taken with us), we did overstay our welcome and left only after the lights had been turned off.

The only night out in China (excl. HK) was at "The Rave Club" in Foshan, and while it wasn't awful, I was disturbed by the sheer numbers of Communist guards that were in- and outside the club. Everywhere you looked your eyes were met by a khaki-clad dood, and it made the whole place seem so very strange.

But at least we've all been to China now - and while I'm sure there are others who have had better experiences, the Guangdong Province is not exactly the travel destination I would recommend to many. At least I scored some cheap dvds and - HURRAH, kitchy original Communist paraphernalia. I was so happy.

Last night in Hong Kong was pretty standard- after having spent far too much money at what must be the most exclusive Pizza Hut I have ever seen in my entire life, we just hung out in the hostel room and had some beer. The conversation drifted to politics and religion which not surprisingly resulted in a lot of noise, upon which we were "politely asked to leave". I went to bed after, while some of the others roamed the streets for a while, and then found it in their hearts to call my cellphone 7 times, then Dan's and then bang on the door for 5 minutes.

But now I'm back in Sweet Singapore - a place I have learned to appreciate more of due to the simple power of comparison.

Mind you, duking, flexing, being so sad/happy/angry, and David's mom, will never be the same.

Update from China

According to the guidebook that brutally consumed 49 of my hard-earned (cough) Hong Kong dollars, Foshan is one of China's 4 ancient cities. As of now, the only ancient thing I have seen here, is some of the items on the shelves of local convenience stores.

Hopefully we'll see something better when we go to the temple place today.

Otherwise, I spent Tuesday until Friday in Hong Kong, and while there were certainly some, ahem, difficulties, I have had a great time.

Difficulties included:

1. Creepy Wyoming guy with wife and kids who paid cover charge for 15 smu exchange students but then ended up fighting Dan because apparently Dan had "insulted his honor".
2. "Spectacular view" from the Peak in HK was actually more of vast whiteness. I LOVE smog.
3. hm. Maybe I was overreacting about the difficulties thing
4. oh no, hang on, HK IS TOO EXPENSIVE.

Anyways, on the Tuesday night we had a great time drinking around the markets, meeting random people and searching in vain for a good bar. The 7-11s got some good business out of us though. Night ended around 4 am, with promises of getting up at 8 am so that we could all get some sightseeing done at Big Buddha.

This obviously did not happen - but personally i thought 10 am was pretty impressive.

ok, post to be continued soon. It's time for some KFC for breakfast. I feel like I am living the movie Super Size Me.

6 am, sunrise from Leedon 2. Up too early for my own good due to circumstances beyond my control (who schedules a group meeting for 7.30 anyways?) 

Lost in Education vs Lost in China

I'm in school now. Too much work. It sucks. Just had a presentation on Negotiation and Conflict Resolution - a rather subpar performance, really.

I got an sms from Dan shortly after he arrived in Hong Kong yesterday, though - apparently the friend of Kara's that we're supposed to be staying with, never showed up...

Personally, I'd rather be in Hong Kong. 28 hours till departure!

- - -

Oh, and I have a question. Can anyone can explain to me why all buildings in Singapore have floors that become makeshift skating rinks when wet? Last night, on a late night Coke Light run to the Esso station I unknowingly entered a death-trap for all flip-flop wearers: the wet marble floor. Needless to say, I ended up sprawled all over the place, bringing a small shelf of kitkats down with me. Bruised, ridiculed, embarrassed. But worst of all: they were sold out of my drug of choice, my sweet addiction. I think I now understand the true meaning of bitter.

Random Observations and Lessons Learned

Singapore is a country where they play "Closing Time" by Semisonic and Wiener Waltzes when the library closes. They sell fishballs on sticks, almost a taste of home, really - fiskeboller i karrisaus. Alcohol is overpriced, but readily available at both the 7-11 and gas station. People eat durians, preserved eggs (preserved in horse piss, apparently) and fish porridge, but when it comes to western food, variety does not extend much further than a hot dog marketed as sausage or other food indifferentiable from each other due to the level of blandness. In Singapore you can eat dinner at 4 am in the morning, but the library closes at 2 pm. The MRT runs until mindnight, but they turn off the power on half the escalators at 10 pm. If you're male and want to go swimming, you technically have to wear a speedo. Calling people fat in different ways seems to be a favored pastime. Girls can drink as much as they want for free in many bars, while guys have to fight if they're under 25 or exposing shin skin. If someone you don't know asks you if you want to meet his "sister" - he probably means prostitute. Bacon is made from turkeys here, and a taxi driver responds much better to "uncle" than anything else. This is a nation where the daily humidity index is generally comparable to that of the average sauna, but you will get a cold from going to class because the air conditioning makes the classroom easy to confuse with a walk-in refridgerator. Shopping bags are carriers, and lineups are queues. There are a lot of queues. a lot. Landscaping is big here, I don't think wildflowers are legal. Maybe they just abide by the laws like pretty much everyone else.

Overall - different, interesting, fun, weird. But I like it here.

Would you like an STD with that?

Just came back from a quick dinner at the food court. Inga, Sonia and I were eating, when out of nowhere a representative from Planned Parenthood Singapore showed up, complete with a slideshow outlining the prevalence of genital herpes, gonorrhea and syphilis. Not only did we learn about the effects of venereal disease, but we also got a very graphic closeup of a penis with genital herpes wounds. Unfortunately, my dinner plate was filled with fried noodles. It was a veeery bad combination.

Peel Fresh Juice

This juice is an amazing discovery that I made on the way home yesterday:
Peel Fresh Mixed Fruits & Vegetables Juice Drink

Upon reading the ingredients list, however, I became somewhat disturbed:
"Fruit and vegetable juice and pulp concentrate:
Wheatgrass
Apple
Orange
Guava
Pineapple
Passion
Apricot
Mango
(so far so good)
Celery (we're moving towards the iffy territory, but I guess that's to be expected when I buy vegetable juice)
Lime
Carrot
Banana
Green Pepper
Gherkin (WHO PUTS PICKLES IN FRUIT JUICE!?)
Sauerkraut (Since when is this even a vegetable?)
Onion (...)
and
Beetroot

Tastes amazing though - strangely enough.

A Caribbean in Singapore

Contrary to popular belief, Labour Economics does not get more exciting if you have only had 3 hours of sleep. Thursdays are not good days, I have decided - for some reason beyond my knowledge (well, probably because of the whole "ladies drink free" issue), Wednesdays have become the night to go out and it's disagreeing quite loudly with my 8.30 class.

It was a quality evening though - since Jani's going for an internship in the EU Parliament, there was a huge goodbye party for him last night, complete with a Caribbean theme. Jordan bought some massive leis, and Jani showed up looking more like himself than ever - with white trousers, white shirt, white shoes and sunglasses.

I managed to reestablish my reputation as the clumsy person I've been trying to hide, by dropping a class on the pristine marble floor of team Aga's apartment. Not a popular move.

We went on to the Stamford Swissotel NewAsia bar about 45 minutes behind schedule (and believe me, there was a schedule), and it was amazing! It's on the 70th floor with awesome views of the city, and Seba got Jani some crazy drink where they put a bottle of Galliano on top of a martini glass, light alcohol on fire and pour it down over the bottle and you have to drink it with a straw while they pour so the glass doesn't overflow.

After that, we went on to a place called ChinaBlack - interrupted by a short trip to 7-11 where Sean had some good times with traffic cones (again). When I got back to the bar, though, I encountered some diffuculties. Apparently the flipflops I was wearing was "not appropriate attire" for the club. Mind you, the group that had entered before me was rife with the sort of footwear. So, since phone calls and text messages pleading people for a pair of shoes I could enter with failed, Jani lent me his. Nothing says classy like a skirt and men's shoes that are blatantly 4 sizes too big.

We had a short pit stop at a food court along the way to feed Kara some satay and Sean something non-alcoholic and then went on to Desire, where we stayed until it was way too late. 3 hours of sleep ensued, and then labour economics.


Post Script:
It is now Friday - after lying down for a nap at 4 pm last night, I woke up at 8.15 this morning. Sleep monster much!?

As a token of appreciation to my dear brother for sharing the address of this blog with others. Extreme Makeover - Drag Edition 

Steve

When did it become socially acceptable for men above the age of 40 to try things with girls that are still in university?

Last Friday I ran into someone who went to Queen's too, fair enough, we talked for about 10 minutes just about Canada and Queen's and whatnot. I thought it was pretty funny to meet someone who went to my school all the way in Singapore. Small talk gets old fast though, and I really just wanted to get the hellz out of there so I express my intentions to leave. Things go awry, however, when he takes my cell phone and enters his phone number. I try to explain that I'm not single in vain - apparently despite being middleaged and having English as a first language, comprehension is lacking.
I rapidly run away to play pool with the Irish.

Oh, did I mention that in the small conversation we had, he mentioned that he graduated in 1991? My grade nine math skills tell me that gives him an estimated age of about 36.

Situation gets even better when I get random phone calls the next day. Apparently he gave himself a missed call to get my number, and according to my answering machine, I should "feel free to drop by his hotel room any time".

WAAAHHHHH!

Phone calls persist for a few days, while I exercise call screening, ignoring and blatantly hanging up.

I hate it when older men think they're all young and hip. I'm 20, for crying out loud! when i was 5, he was 21. What did I do to deserve this? (By the way, if someone has a snide reply to that rhetorical question[cough,dan,cough], please refrain from answering. It's rhetorical).

Steve is officially on the same list as the Day Guard and Avril Lavigne.

The Return of Miss Procrastination

She's back and hungry for revenge. The hiatus in which there was simply not all that much to procrastinate is officially over, and now she is making up for lost time.

It's currently 2 am in the morning, and my 2000 word marketing case study writeup is due in 10 hours. Let's do a quick word count to see where I'm at.

Oh yeah: 74 words. Including my full name and title of the actual assignment. And the name of the professor. And the name of the class. And today's date in written form. FINE, so I guess technically it's only 39 words or something, making me about 1.95% done.

This is going to be a long night...

Daniel and Marianne - making a mess of Singapore since 2005 

How to spot a Swede

I don't think there is a more distinctive nationality.

If the answer to more than 3 of these questions about a guy is yes, chances are he is indeed Swedish:
1. Is he blonde?
2. Does he like to help himself to other people's beer?
3. Is his hair too high maintenance or too long and combed back?
4. Does he have a tendency to wear deep v-neck shirts and capris?
5. Does he do snus? (Chewing tobacco that you stuff under your upper lip).

These statements are of course, based on long hours of extensively accurate statistical testing and research. In fact, about 90% of the subjects encountered while here in Singapore fulfilled these criteria.

The Aviator

What a SHIT movie.

And I didn't even have very high expectations.

Cate Blanchett as Katherine Hepburn must be the most annoying character in the history of film, and I have to say that while I too had my embarrassing moment of liking him (come on, I was 13!), even Bob Saget would have done a better performance.

An absolute waste of 3 hours of my life.

Wasting time in the unemployment line

I need a job.

Please hire me this summer? Applications are out, but replies aren't exactly flowing in.

I went to a swedish professionals abroad thing last night, which was decent - then some pool and Ali G with the Irish. Nothing spectacular though - Lindsey's professor was blatantly hitting on her and wine was $14/glass. In other words, an establishment trying to mask their iffy clientele and look classier by jacking up their prices. I didn't buy it.

Off to some group meeting now - it's negotiations time.

Jordan and Dan looking, uh... "interesting" in their women's jeans 

Losing sleep

I got up almost 3.5 hours ago at 8 am, feeling strangely alert and awake. Then again, I suppose it wasn't really all that strange, given that I went to bed before 7 pm the night before. Either way: MAN, it felt good!

The real story behind this can be explained by the fact that yesterday night's sleep amounted to 2 hours - 2 hours of sleep that were taken between 9 and 11 am, at which time I had to shower and leave to be an extra on a MEDIACORP production. That's right, Marie, Maria, Lukasz, Schwerb, Rob, Olivier and I will be appearing in a Chinese TV drama on March 8th. A very low budget TV drama, mind you - but TV no less.

Why only 2 hours of sleep you may ask. Well, I'm not entirely sure myself. Since Paul from Ireland came back from Ireland and Jani from Finland was getting the heave-ho from his room, the irish had a joint Welcome Back/Goodbye party at the apartment. It really started out quite calmly - me and Dan were sharing a bottle of Malaysian (read: cheapy mcthrifty) vodka with mango and pineapple juice, but since it was slightly green and tasted like death (the juice, as it turns out, was produced in Tanjung Pinang - we should have known then that attempting to drink it would be a bad idea) we trekked down to the gas station to get some beer. When we came back, however, the place had filled up, and things got interesting. We made a hole in the kitchen ceiling in which to dispose of beer bottles and shortly left for Boat Quay to go to Ataca. Ataca was a great place, but apparently their age limit for guys was 25 (as mentioned before, sexism flourished in Singapore - this rule was not valid for girls) so after having been there for a bit, we got tossed out in spite of Jordan's attempts to reason with the bouncers. Then we went on to Bedroom for a bit, but left pretty quickly after one the random brits we met up with got too friendly, and headed on to a place called Gotham. We were the only people in there, but that was fine - our current state at the time and the fact that girls got free drinks definitely made up for it.

There was a repeat performance of the switcharoo, by the way; this time the participants included Dan, Jordan, Tiffany and myself. I must say, Dan definitely got a better deal than Jordan, who ended up in Tiffany's skin-tight, diamond studded jeans for the remainder of the night. If he had tied his shirt so that his midriff was bared, I would have sworn he was the other guy in Wham.

By now, it was about 5 am in the morning, and I had pretty much come to the realization that there was no way I would make it to my 8.30 class. So rather than going home and pretending like I would, we decided to head back to the Irish place for an after-party. When we arrived, we realized that Daisy, Paul's friend from when he was on exchange in the States, had puked all over the apartment, and Kara had stayed behind to clean up. Needless to say she was not too happy, and her mood didn't exactly improve when Tony went apeshit on her cause she was sleeping in her bed. So I walked her home, and when I got back, everyone was still pretty upbeat, and somehow we got the bright idea to walk to Bukit Timah Nature Reserve to see the sunrise. At this point, people were out walking their dogs, in school uniforms on their way to school and out jogging. I went to sleep on a bench, and after Tony got his fix of posing with random people and their dogs, we headed back to the apartment: me too sleep by the pool, they to swim in the pool. Unfortunately, they felt I should swim too, and so my sunlounger was cruelly thrown into the pool - with me on it.

5 minutes later, a cabdriver finds himself with 2 soaked, intoxicated university students on their way home to have a 2 hour nap before their class presentation/tv filming.

Today I intend on doing nothing until I go to my Swedish party, where I have a feeling my intentions of sobriety will once more be overturned.

Idol Fever!

I've come to the conclusion that Idol programmes will be the demise of this world. Last night was Patron's Day at Singapore Management University (where I'm currently "studying"). Not only did the president of Singapore come, but more importantly, the winner of Singapore Idol, often referred to as "the Usher of Singapore" had a guest performance of a whopping 3 songs. Just as well that it was that short, really - i don't know if I could have taken much more.

Why is it that someone who is so intrinsically rubbish can become so famous and popular? I mean, there must have been hundreds of highly educated people present yesterday - screaming and cheering for this self-proclaimed musician. Frustrating.

The exchange students represented like crazy though - while what must be close to 90% of the local students headed home before 9 pm, we stayed till minuit, and helped ourselves to orchids en mass, got some food and then the most dedicated ones (Jani, Dan, Rob, Tony and I) went on to Boat Quay and got even more drunk. Discussions on foreign policy and the EU, bartop dancing and general rowdiness ensued. Random combination, really. Bedroom, the next place we went (Boat Quay closed at 3am) was owned by a Canadian, and Dan went nuts when he saw the Canucks hockey jersey on the wall and scored us free shots from the owner.

Needless to day, this morning was rough. And Singapore Idol still sucks!

Batam Fast Speedboat. 

The Adventure Continues

In terms of transportation, this weekend has definitely been the craziest thus far in my life.

Over the course of 3 days and 2 nights, I have utilized the following modes of transport:

- Regular passenger ferry (owned by Penguin Ferry Services)
- Teksi ( generally sold by the words "Hello friend! How ah you? Wheh you goin? Teksi?")
- Minivan w/ benches and 15 other passengers
- "Bus"
- Scooters* rented from a group of random guys in Tanjung Uban
- On the back of an old lady's truck
and
- Speedboat. Allow me to elaborate: in Indonesia, speedboat means a low, low boat. Soo low. The picture speaks for itself. Interesting fact - we were more than 50 people, not including the 7 year old ticket collector.

*These were some high quality bikes, by the way: halfway through the second day, the gear shifter simply broke straight off.


On the first night, Dan, Christine and I stayed in a worndown beach resort (I love how even beach resorts has chickens running around! On Saturday morning, Dan ordered an omelette, but they told us there were no more eggs left. 10 minutes later, though, eggs were available again, and the omelette emerged.), and had dinner at a restaurant on big poles out on the water. We also befriended some french exchange students that were at NUS, but despite beer for 8000 Rupiah, it was an early night... Saturday was awesome though, after obtaining scooters and some cheapo dvds, we made it to Bintan Resorts, and got a place to stay. Strangely enough, the receptionist was the same guy we had talked to on the bus from Gelak to Tanjung Uban. We got some food and cheap beer, then hit up the beach party at Mana Mana. Had a great time, that became even greater when they only charged my credit card with one of the 3 rounds of drinks we had. High point was definitely when they played Cheeky Girls - I honestly don't think I've ever seen Dan as happy as I did right then.

The next day we mooched the beach off of the resort, and it was beautiful - much better than the slimy beach at the place we stayed the first night. Dan sported an amazing farmers tan - that must have been what prompted some local Indonesians to ask if they could take our picture. We agreed, thinking they would take a photo and be off, but rather they now have a collection of close to 20 photographs and video footage of the entire family posing with us. It's been a while since I've laughed that hard!

All in all a great trip.

Hehe, it was even an interesting return voyage to Singapore - we ran out of money and struggled to get through 2 ferrys and one taxi ride for 3 people for 10 Sing Dollars. Well, I'm back at least - I was pleasantly surprised to see that we actually made it.

Fishing Village in Bintan, Indonesia 

Entry Denied

This weekend, 7 of us decided to take a spur of the moment trip to Batam and Bintan in Indonesia. Unfortunately, we assumed that obtaining visas upon entry would not be a problem.

In Indonesia, however, while they grant entry without visa to Morocco, Peru, Oman and a few more nations, Ireland, Belgium and Mexico are not eligible for visas upon entry. Am I the only one that finds this strange?

So, to make a short story even shorter; the end of the beginning of my story of an Indonesian adventure is that shortly later, Seba, Pedro, Sean and Tony were led into a makeshift holding pen, and then sent on the first boat back to Singapore.

Hence, this weekend consisted of Christine from Germany/Austria/Switzerland, Dan and myself. I still really enjoyed the trip, though - despite the fact that the deportation of our friends put a bit of a damper on the first night. Reports from the ensuing adventure will follow shortly.

How not to make a sale

Last night I went roaming Orchard Road for some new cheap sheets that are slightly more attractive than my current beige/orange/floral/brown bed decor.

Walking past some small shops selling shoddy souvenirs and tshirts, salespeople would bug you as you walked past. This is somewhat annoying, but genereally I don't mind so much and simply ignore it. Usually, lines such as "Where you from?" or "Special Plice for you" try to lure you into the store. Last night, however, I experienced something new.

"You come and buy shirt! We have big blouses - very stretchy for you!"

Since when is calling your customer fat a good sales strategy?

The Petronas Towers (remember Entrapment?) 

Kuala Lumpur in a nutshell

Definitely more pleasure than business!

The past weekend in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - land of Ringits, knockoffs, actual weather (as opposed to "overcast and humid") and one hell of a monorail system.

In short it was a great and action-packed time. Some lessons I learned:

1. When the bus company says the trip takes 5 hours, they mean 7. At least. And when the bus company says they'll show up at 12.30 on Sunday to drive us back, they mean they'll show up when the goddamn want to, and most likely with a different bus with a highly substandard interior.
2. Never give the microphone to Pedro.
3. Never give the hotel your credit card. EVER! Especially if you've booked 20 rooms for 40 rowdy exchange students, who drink, run, scream, sing and, according to the CCTV, tend to steal powder fire extinguishers and spray them all over a suite. Unless of course your hotel has a policy like our hotel, where we were billed a whopping 150 ringgits for a used fire extinguisher, trashed hotel room, countless noise complaints and general obnoxiousness.
4. Security guards are retarded! Case in point: Me and Dan, rather intoxicated and soaked in water and white powder are running down the hall to avoid trouble regarding the fire extinguisher. Enter security guard walking in the opposite direction. Also enter Dan and Marianne's "OH SHIT" thoughts and feelings of impending doom. What happens? Guard nods at us and keeps walking. Hurrah!
5. If you put your mind to it, you can get up at 9 am, go see some Indian caves, go up the Petronas Tower (you know, the ones from Entrapment), see a fake capital city that is entirely empty but cost billions of Ringgits, go to Chinatown, bargain and buy lots of knockoff gear, take a cab, train and monorail, go to the top of the TV Tower, buy RM300 worth of booze, eat an iffy pizza hut pizza, have a preparty and sing (loudly), go out, hear about one of the others get hit in the face with a beer bottle, go to a public Malaysian hospital, go searching for a long distance calling card at 3 am in a random neighbourhood, have an afterparty until 6 am, and finally go to sleep with an extra person in your room due to the powderiness of his own.
6. Point 5 results in sleep on the bus.
7. When possible, hold out on going to the bathroom until you cross the border back into Singapore
8. ALWAYS WEAR SUNSCREEN (lesson from previous few days - I am now officially skin cancer waiting to happen. Lobsterhood does not become me)

[As a side note, todayI learned: Always check your schedule before going to class. Especially if you think you have 8.30 class. I am now sitting outside food haven at 9.12 in the morning, with 6 hours straight of class starting in almost 3 hours. Shitty.]

Life's a beach and then you die

And boy am I dying.

Yesterday I went to Changi Beach Park with Mina - not exactly a spectacular beach, but decent for Singapore, I suppose. It was a sunny day, and I don't exactly know what happened to my brain capacity, but it failed me. 3 hours later I was back at the apartment, in pain and feeling queasy, red skin (no, not pink, red). I'm still struggling to sit up, and I'm actually nervous that the right side of my face is going to fall off - it's now blistering like a regular burn...

I hate being scared. And we leave for KL in 5 hours...

I wish I wasn't this stupid.

Ye Olde Switcharoo

A story that has to be told.

A few nights ago, us exchange students decided to go out (shocker, isn't it?). Stop number one was Insomnia, a place where you pay S$18 to get in, and then get free drinks between 9 and 11 if you're a guy, 9 and midnight if you're a girl (this country is rife with gender discrimination and I'm loving it!). I was running late, but while getting ready, I receive a call from Dan. "Could you bring me a pair of shoes?" Apparently shorts and sandals is inappropriate attire -- unless you are a girl, that is. So, no worries, I bring a shopping bag with Dan's shoes, he changes, and the night is saved. We all stay at Insomnia for a few hours, get some drinks, get invited to party with shemales (an offer I declined), and then go on Zouk.

Here awaits obstacle number two. Despite his shoes, the bouncers refuse Dan entrance because he isn't wearing trousers. Quite the dilemma. We stand arguing with the guy for a few minutes, using arguments such as the fact that 75% of the girls entering the club are in miniskirts. The bouncer, however, simply retorts, "Eet is deeferent for girls-lah!". And so a brilliant idea arises. We both dash around the corner, and 1 minute later, Dan is elegantly clad in skintight jeans that are 30 cm too short, while I am sporting baggy, beige cargo shorts that go past my knees. Despite some raised eyebrows and "is she a lesbian" mutterings in the bathroom, the old switcharoo was a blasting success.

It was a good night.

[For me at least. Dan lost the group later on, went home and slept on the porch in front of our door. Oh alcohol, how I love thee.]

mmmm... tasty. 

Monkeying Around

This morning, Mina asked me, "Should we maybe put on some sunscreen?". Of course I replied in a terribly overconfident manner, "No, no - of course not! I've been here for a week and am just as pale as when I arrived. The sun never even comes out."

Now we're sitting in the living room lobster-faced and I'm eating my words.

It was a great day though - me, Dan and Mina did some hardcore sightseeing, and I came home with 71 pictures on my camera. More than half of these were of monkees, though! Monkeys! It was crazy, we went to the nature reserve, and they were everywhere. Completely tame, too - except for the one that tried to steal my shopping bag and then got aggressive. I ran away like a scared little girl.

We also did some haggling on a digital camera, saw Chinatown, Raffles Hotel, The Merlion again and hiked to Singapore's highest point. Very productive. Then we had dinner at a place where "Fried Mermaid", "Meat porridge with Fermented Eggs" and "Frog Porridge" were menu highlights. Iffy. I stuck to just a drink as yesterday I spent 2 hours where I should have been in class regurgitating a questionable meal in the SMU bathroom. Ah, the joys of local food. It all still tastes amazing though, although I have a feeling it'll get old really soon.

There are so many things here that are so entirely different here - even though there are parts that are so much like home... And I don't just mean menu items. I learned yesterday, that apparently it's good luck to grow the facial hair you get on moles or warts in your face. I saw a bus driver with a goodsized wart with three .5 metre long whiskers hanging down. Charming. Also, when you give money, you're supposed to hand it to the person with both hands because otherwise it's bad luck. So much to learn! And I haven't even been to that many classes yet.

The one class I have though, is actually really interesting - New Product Development. The professor is Indian but just moved to Singapore 2 years ago after spending 7 years in Oslo! And we're reading (well, technically we were supposed to have read it as "background" before the class even started, but I had no idea) a great book called The Tipping Point - about what causes something to befcome a fad or trend. I definitely recommend it (although I haven't read any further than chapter 1).

So I'm not going out again tonight, my feet are broken after the monster amounts of walking we did today, and I want to be frisk som en fisk when we go to Kuala Lumpur!

Oh, Mina is the daughter of a friend of my mother's - apparently we met a few years ago at our "rustic" cabin, but I honestly can't remember. She's staying here for a few days though, then coming with us to KL, then travelling a bit before she starts her exchange semester in Sydney. I love random visitors.

So that's all for now - I'm looking forward to an evening of chillaxing. (Hehe, chillaxing. What an amazing word).

Photo Album

Pictures Pictures Pictures

So much to tell

Where to begin?

Well, it has now been 6 days since my arrival at Changi Airport, and Singapore is great. Ba da ba ba ba, I'm loving it.

The initial arrival was so so, I was quite overwhelmed by the extent of the humidity, but luckily Dan came and met me at the airport so he could guide my heatstrucken self by way of airconditioned taxi to our apartment. So far so good. I have to admit, though, that the ICA - aka The Ministry of Bureaucracy, was a less pleasant affair. First, you line up in order to get a number in line, then you wait for your number to be called. For us, that equalled 3.5 hours.

But the day improved significantly though, we had a party at Leedon 2 - then headed out for Ladies night at CU where drinks and cover was free all night! Not too shabby for a country where drinks are more expensive than in Norway! We're going back there tomorrow night - I'm bringing the daughter of one of my mother's friends who's stopping in Singapore on her way to Cambodia and Laos.

Friday was the party at the Japanese people's apartment - we had a vorspiel at the Norwegian place first - and I have to say, it was absolutely gorgeous. They pay the same rent as we do, but live in luxury. At least we're closer to the MRT and downtown. The Japanese place was insanely crowded - the police came only an hour after we showed up so that was an experience.

Jani, one of the Finnish guys here is actually staying at the Singapore Sheraton! Talk about student living! He's in a massive suite - with a king size canopy bed and a living room with plush chairs and a mini bar. Imagine living in a residence where you can call room service, or ask for more ice at any time, as well as a maid service! When we arrived in our taxi we were greeted by a man in a white colonial uniform, complete with that jungle hat - opened our doors and welcomed us. In the lobby there is an actual waterfall and what must be more than 100 pink orchids. He had a party on Saturday and I was overwhelmed to say the least.

I spent yesterday by the pool at the Americans' house then we went for Indian food in Holland Village - then for a few drinks at Boat Quay.

All in all: I am having an excellent time. Even the humidity has become tolerable, I just hope classes aren't too much work. This weekend will be spent in KL, and the weekend after Sibu Island (hopefully). I'm already spending way too much money, so we'll see what happens.

Take Care!

16 hours in Bahrain 

Musings on Mustaches

03.01.2005
kl 14.45

In true Seinfeld fashion, I begin: “What’s the deal with mustaches?”. Seriously, I have to admit that they’re not the most attractive thing around… Not many people suit mustaches. Of course, there are those who have to have them: I doubt Magnum PI, Adolf Hitler, the Monopoly Man and a few others would have had the same effect had it not been for their particular fuzzy upper-lip accessory. But sometimes I wonder about places where all men seem to have mustaches. And I mean all men. I wonder if there is some reason for this phenomenon. I have now been in Bahrain for half of my monstrous 16hour layover, and I have not seen one man over the age of 14 without a mustache. The reason to me, is unknown. If anyone has an explanation, please, please enlighten me, I am dying to know.

Otherwise, I’m finding Bahrain a bit of a mixed adventure. Upon arrival I got a free hotel room and waived visa fee (“but I don’t have any Bahraini currency”) which was nice, but people had a tendency to very openly stare and shout comments at me. It was pretty apparent that I was merely a visitor… But I got some photos and ate some food and now I’m back in the hotel room lounging for a bit. Lounging is key.

Laughing is so underrated! 

Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night

After a long day of copious amounts of food, drink and presents, I lie in bed content and jetlagged (10.07 pm according to my Canadian set computer clock - reality lies 6 hours ahead of that).

Since last time I've decided:

• It feels REALLY good to be done exams
• Flying is very, very overrated
• So are airports
• as are luggage weight limits and being forced to repack in the middle of hordes of crabby Christmas travellers at Pearson airport
• It wouldn't hurt if air hostesses were just a little friendlier. and by friendlier I mean not snarl ifyou ask for another drink.
• Christmas food, Diet Coke and possession of a dishwasher make me a happy camper
• The idea of seeing a certain someone again after 2 months makes me infinitely giddy and nervous at the same time

It's now only 10 days until Singapore, which seems entirely unreal, but I'm incredibly excited to go, although I wish I had at least another week or two to spend time with people here in good old Norwegen. I have naturally not started to unpack my ridiculous amount of stuff - I'll save that for another day.

Peace, love and artery-clogging Christmas cuisine to all!

Board Games and Strip Clubs and Pizza, oh my

Last night started out innocently enough.

I invited some guys over for a fun night of pizza, beer and Jeopardy!.* This quickly turned into a cutthroat game of Trivial Pursuit and more beer. Well, one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was sitting between 4 of my friends at the Plaza Hotel, Kingston - also known as the sketchiest strip club in the nation, surrounded by boobs, retired strippers and bearded old men that give the term "ogle" new meaning.

How did this happen, you ask? Well, I'm not entirely sure. But I have to admit - although I could have done without the bird's eye of a stripper's privates, last night was a lot of fun.


*OK, so I am a geek. But don't knock drinking + trivia gameshows until you try it.

Nothing beats the blues like champagne for breakfast

Alcohol is the way to go.

School is garbage - I feel like such a waste studying something I really don't care about at all... Motivation is lacking.

Maybe shots will help?

Voyeurism vs Exhibitionism

Being new to this blogging thing, I just finished browsing through a fair amount of them (further exemplifying my procrastinatic nature) - and I have to admit, I feel like a bit of a snoop. I know, everyone publishing these blogs are publishing them voluntarily, but I wonder if everyone is aware of the people who actually read their personal accounts of their lives. I'm sure there are lots and lots of people who are check others' weblogs on a daily basis, and start feeling as if they are part of their lives, despite never having met or communicated with that person.

Maybe this new trend of weblogging is related to people's desire for celebrity - when you have large amounts of strangers following your life or your opinions, maybe you feel like a celebrity on some level. Usually, we only get this type of insight to celebrities' lives through paparazzi photography, trashy magazines and TV, but here, we can go straight into the personal lives of people with the click of a mouse.

I find it strange, because for years I've been trying to keep a diary or journal, but I've always stopped writing after a few entries, because it feels unnatural to write to no audience. Here, however, I've posted many times just in the last week, and I really don't think that I'm going to stop doing it! Since you either have some sort of audience (be it just randomers like myself who was browsing blogs out of boredom, or people becoming inreasingly obsessed with your life), or are there is a chance that someone might actually read what you write, is there greater incentive to actually write?

I have to admit that I've never been very exhibitionistic, but since I started this blog,I have had 2 comments from complete strangers, and for some reason I feel flattered. The comments were neither praise nor criticism, but I was still strangely happy with getting them. Maybe it's because when complete strangers are actually reading what you write, you feel like your perspectives and opinions matter - why else would someone read and actually comment on what you write?

Either way, I have to admit that I'm almost disturbed with how much interest I took in reading about others' lives. I know that curiosity is what leads to most major discoveries, debate, interest and so on, but why are we so curious about other people, when we don't even know them?

The pool of my apartment in Singapore. I am no longer sad about being broke now. Being broke with an awesome pool in a hot climate is a lot better than being broke in a shitty house in a cold and miserable climate. Such wisdom! 

If i had a million dollars

It really is too bad that I'm currently about, well let's see, $999,998.44 away from the million. Yes, that's right, my account has the extravagant balance of $1.66.
Which is the equivalent of:

• one soft drink from a vending machine (if i muster up the extra 9 c - which I'm sure I could locate on the floor somewhere)
• one international stamp (to mail a "send more money" card to sympathetic family)
• approximately 150 g of bulk candy
• a loaf of cheap bread
• 1 load of laundry

or

• the bank fees required to actually withdraw this money.

In other words: i really only have 16 c cash left over - not enough for bread, stamps or soda. Maybe a piece of bulk candy if I'm lucky.

Seriously though, I miss those days when being broke actually meant not being able to afford the jeans for $200, so getting a shirt instead. Now broke means: no money in any account, owe one person $85.50, maxed out credit card and 2 bills have yet been paid. Quarters are officially great change, and locating a loonie is like striking oil. I wish I had the money matters sense to not throw away my money at a rate that leaves me like this at the end of the semester. What am I doing?? How can I be in Commerce, and still lack the sense to actually budget (well, follow the budget).

I think I'll scavenge couches for an additional $1.84 and buy a lottery ticket.

Today is going pretty slowly though - despite having expertly copied and pasted the questions of my take-home exam into, I can't seem to get around to actually getting anything written. Quelle surprise.

But it is officially only 19 days until I am back in the homeland, where reindeer dinner and Christmassy goodness awaits. Which brings me to my next question: How the hell am I going to get Christmas gifts with cash flow skimpier than Pamela Anderson's favorite skirt? Methinks the family will be getting some "charming" cups cleverly made from toilet rolls. I'm hoping I have not passed the point where anything home-made is "cute" and "dear". Otherwise, I was just informed that this year I will be photoshopped into the Christmas card picture my family sends out - ah, the sense of belonging technology brings.

Anyways, it's time for me to get back to not writing my exam - the only thing keeping me through exams right now, is the fact that I won't be taking another one at Queen's for a year after I'm done.

Score.

The Art of Procrastination

After having gone onto this site countless times in the last few days, I have come to the conclusion that I am procrastinating procrastination. Even my procrastination has reached new heights of pointlessness.

So, in the eye of documentation, I've decided to include a list of most memorable moments in high school. Entirely for my own sake (it's not like anyone actually reads this blog anyways, that would involve me giving out the address, I suppose). Since I always intended to, but never actually ended up keeping a diary, I will try to record at least parts in retrospect.

This, of course is something "I'll get around to soon" - procrastinating my procrastination of procrastination.

Confessions of a sleep monster

My name is Marianne and I'm a sleepaholic.

...

What, no "Hi, Marianne"?


Seriously, though. I just got up and it is 1.24 pm. Yesterday, I got up at 8, showered and went to class till 10, and then WENT HOME AND SLEPT UNTIL 4.30 PM! I've decided that something must be wrong with me. Some rare genetic mutation or obscure disease. Narcolepsy? It can't be possible to just be that lazy... can it?

So my new week's resolution is simply: sleep less, work more.

Stick a needle in me, I'm done

Oh, wait. Someone already did that.

I have officially begun the immunization process for South-East Asia: 3 shots down, 9 to go - and that's despite the fact that I'm refusing to take the rabies vaccine (too pricy for me - and really, what are the chances of me being bit by a rabid monkey? However, knowing my luck, I'll probably be fine the entire time, but since I was too cheap for a rabies vaccine, a monkey will bite, leaving me with only lyrics by Alanis Morrisette to hang on to). What have I learned today? Pharmaceutical companies make too much money. I propose they start sharing their profits with me.

Singapore seems to be approaching even faster than I anticipated, which is definitely a good thing.

There have been some minor developments in terms of living arrangements, even thought I'm not sure whether they're positive or negative. While we ("we"? Main problem is that "we" hasn't exactly been established yet) have found the most spectacular (albeit a tad expensive) apartment with a JACUZZI and a POOL, complete with little water-spouting fish fountains, there is some difficulty in establishing flatmates and so on... I just really hope we get this place!

While I have little doubt that we could find another apartment, I doubt something this good will come up again, and the whole idea of risking winding up in a hostel is truly horrifying. The rules are already outrageous, and a guy I just talked to yesterday told stories of rats. Now, I'm not going to claim to be terrible organized and clean, but rats are definitely beyond my threshold of sketchy.

But bed awaits - after having indulged in staying up until 4 am, getting up for class then coming back and napping like a maniac for the last week or so, I'm thinking it's time to start getting a grip.

Life or something like it

Inspired by Kip (www.scottishtekal.blogspot.com), I'm jumping on the blogging bandwagon to keep a record of my currently rather dull existence (bound become at least somewhat interesting following exams).

Departure to Singapore: 45 days!

It'll be interesting to see whether I actually keep updating this thing, or do as I have with so many "diaries" in the past - write religiously for a week, then completely abandon it.

For now, at least, I have faith.