It started innocently. With my virgin title. For the past two years ago, I find myself
spending an inordinate amount of time huddling in front of my television and my
dvd player soaking up Korean dramas.

I’m addicted to korean dramas. I cant do without them like how Koreans cant live without kimchi.

I cant remember exactly how many I’ve watched. Heres some that I recommend,
노란손수건 (Yellow handkerchief), 상도 (商道) ,이도(医道）, Hotelier..ahh theres just too many. For complete listing, please find me. lol. By the way, I’ve only completed a fraction of what my mother has watched.

A look at my mother’s stash. Bags and drawers are filled with serials.

Actually theres another layer behind which is concealed. This is only part of the total
asset she has. The rest are in transit (on loan to relatives/friends/neighbours)
Definitely more than the *ahem* collection I have. I figured out that the
combined property of my mother and my aunt might actually be enough to set up a
mini Korean drama rental store.

I was surfing around when I came across a site which highlighted the draw factors of Korean
drama serials and why they rank superior compared to HK and Japanese drama. The
heydays of Japanese and HK drama serials are over. I don’t even want to talk
about our local dramas. It makes me ashamed and cringe whenever I look at their
clichéd dialogues, hackneyed and shallow plots and atrocious acting. I’ve bold
out the factors that have been identified as the factors which led to the rise
in popularity of Korean dramas.

Purely and emotionally portray love, friendship, tragedy, loyalty, respect, and general
family values.

Not to forget their heart wrenching love/life stories. Eg. Glass shoe, well portrayed historical
figures such as대장금(Jewel in Palace) and injecting novel themes: the successful
rise of a female, which is rarely covered in historical genre, and the elements
of traditional food and medicine.

“Zoe Sister, Sorry. O Please dun cry. Come have some of my rice cakes…”

Highly romantic stories of people beating the odds to find and experience true happiness.

Personal favourites: Love at Harvard, Full house

Relatively little violence and sex.

True for the sex part. After all the dramas are meant to be family shows so they don’t do it in
front of kids. As for the violence….the husbands/boyfriends/males always seem to
get bullied, beaten and verbally abused by their female counterparts
(girlfriend/mothers/stepmothers/grandmothers/classmates…).

Cliffhangers, cliffhangers, and more cliffhangers from one episode to the next.

I've learned that complicated plots full of pathos and high drama are standard. Korean writers
seem to know how to write cliff-hangers. They tease, they titillate. You cant fall asleep without finish watching because you are still worried about the plight of the poor little girl. My daily limit to 2-3 episodes per day always end up becoming 4..&..5& 6, which explains why I always end up like a zombie in camp the following day.

Each Korean TV mini-series refreshingly has an ending. No Season 2, no sequels, etc. Most
series are between 10-20 episodes (each episode = 60 minutes).

I’m watching a 118 episode one right now. I think my mother is watching a 190+ episodes serial.
Erm..maybe they were referring to the mini ones.

Korean actors and actresses are BEAUTIFUL people.

Fully concur. Then again more than 75% of them went under the knife. But who cares. Beautiful.

Beautiful (and unforgettable) musical scores.

You know that you’re hooked when the opening/ending theme just keep going on and on in your
head. It’s a syndrome. You go oo lala lu lala haju ola hadada kadada haju lada..hey hee ah..hee e ay when you watch Jewel in the Palace. You go la la la wo wooo.. da la da la when you think of the perfect girl in Love in Harvard. I don’t know about other Korean drama junkies but I sing them secretly (mainly composed of undecipherable pseudo-Korean character syllables) when I’m walking
alone. That is the power of Korean dramas. Ok back to my DVDs.

Janus Migration Completed.
I have decided to abandon blogger due to the below reasons
1.I cant count the number of times of posts mysteriously vanished after posting.
2.Superlag.
3.Limited functions and unorganised.
4.Troublesome to host songs.
5.Its time for something new.

My new blog's address- http://www.wretch.cc/blog/pondstar for whoever who reads this blog. Feel free to write in the guestbook. I'm still in the midst of doing the layout though.

Was allowed to fall out early today so I decided to catch a movie with my camp mates. There were several movies on my i-wan-to-watch-badly list, namely Dick & Jane and Fearless and Womb Raider. Oh, and I not stupid too.

"Dick and Jane I didnt feel like laughing today.

I not stupid 2. I didn't have any girl to bring along to lend my shoulder to cry on. Lol. Crying with a bunch of guys seemed pretty gay.

Womb Raider. I had to head to Chinatown to squeeze with a group of ah peks in a rundown theatre. Furthermore, I have yet to reach the legal age."

With much woeful reluctance, I mentally struck out the movie from my list.
That leaves Fearless, Huo Yuan Jia..

And it didn't disappoint.

Fearless reveals how Huo Yuan Jia restored the pride and glory of the Chinese during the early 1900's from the intrusion and invasion of the Western powers and the growing Japanese power, where they have been calling the Chinese 'the sick men of Asia.'

The punches, kicks, blows exchanged were so well choreographed and beautifully executed by Jet Li. That just left me gasping and gaping in awe. His fluid movements and flawless executions make Jackie Chan look old and ready for his retirement. Tony Jaa's stunts seem uncouth and kiddy in comparison to the traditional and refined moves delivered by Jet Li.

I love the opening scene. A British boxer, a Spanish swordsman, a Prussian soldier - three formidable fighters step into the ring, and one after another, Huo Yuanjia defeats them all. Chinese martial arts style. Definitely kick-ass and feeds the Asian ego when you see the ang moh exponents get clobbered by Huo Yuan Jia. The fighting scenes in his swan song are going to go down in the annals as one of the greatest Chinese Martial Arts film. So impressive are the
scenes that I now rank them ahead of Zhang Wu Ji thrashing the various menpais
with their own menpai skills in Yi Tian Tu Long Ji ,and Yang Guo and Xiao Long Nv practicing Yu Nv Xing Jing in the bushes in Legend of the Condor heroes.

The movie also showcase the past of Huo, who was then a proud and arrogant fighter who wanted to make himself the one and only invincible fighter of TianJin. His arrogance and past victory from the competition indirectly led to the death of his mother and daughter who were killed in brutal revenge. If I'm not wrong, I think Jet Li also incorporated some elements of Buddhism into the movie.

Huo Yuan Jia - A fighter, who represents Chinese martial arts to a nation; A man, who fought his way out of darkness and into history. And so has Jet Li.

Mahjong Craze

I used to think that mahjong was a leaden, insipid game designed for stodgy old folks and the wealthy tai tais to occupy their vapid time while waiting for their deaths. Its more irksome when coupled with the shuffling of the ivory pieces every time people 'wash' their tiles after games and the constant silly shouting of pong , gang and hu. I dismissed mahjong because of the fatuous, clownish and uncouth behaviour that's characteristic of mahjong playing. Therefore, I never bother to pay attention to the gameplay until I was introduced to the game at my grandaunt's house during Chinese New Year visiting.

It was only then that I realized how wrong I was. The rules and objective were briefly explained and basic gameplay was taught to me. After a few games, I managed to have an inkling of how the game was played. My uncle told me that one can tell a person's personality by how he plays his tiles in a game of mahjong. Whether the player is a conniving, sly bastard son of a Pinocchio, or whether he is square and predictable.

Expressions are extremely important. One must learn how to conceal one's joy or disappointment. I can picture Michelle Yeow telling Sayuri her protégé aka Zhang Zi yi, " A true mahjong plrayer can makte a man peee in his tracks with a single look. "

Armed with the little experience and inflated confidence, I decided to look for people to challenge. I went online to chat with some of my friends who were mahjong enthusiasts to fix a game with them. Soon enough, the trio were ready. I logged out and went to join the game.

I told them not to give me chance and go soft on me just because I was a newbie. I was eager to test out my new found knowledge. They sniggered at me.

"No problem, bunch of arrogant people. Lets see whose intellect and brains are more powerful."

They stacked and distributed the tiles with lightning speed like how they do in those Hong kong gambling shows. I stacked my tiles gingerly and pressed the sides of the snake shaped tiles clumsily in a weak attempt to get them up in vertical fashion.

Having set my tiles in place, I examined my tiles with the intensity akin to a pervert staring at the tiled wall separating his room from the shower-room of his pornstar neighbour.

"Wahahaha, 清一色 all numbers series, in ascending some more. Not bad for a beginner. You guys are all going to die. Wait till I get my tile, then good game already."

Adrenaline was pumping in me as I waited in eager anticipation for my final tile. Several rounds went by. Evidently luck wasn't with me. I still saw no signs of the tile which was the final key to the riches. Worry began creeping at me. I felt my perspiration trickling down my neck, my chest and into my navel. I was contemplating whether I should stop waiting and play other patterns instead. By pattern, I mean the bamboo or the tong.

"HU LE 胡了" Oh shit. Someone got his tiles before me. 十三么 WTF!!!!!!!!! -$8000! Great now my account has just entered into deficit. I think my face became whiter than a geisha for a moment.

The winner began laughing awfully loud. His screeching laughter sounded awfully familiar like 曾志伟...Phew, lucky thing I'm only playing Celebrity mahjong明星三缺一. If not.. I cant imagine the damage it would have done to my almost non existent savings. Looks like I have practice more. Oh, 洗牌啊 Next game!

Dog Ear!
Time to hit the books again!

Some bull

I was flipping through the chinese horoscope of the cow for the Year of the Dog for 2006 when i came across the disposition of the people who are born in the year of the cow.

"The character of the Cow is steady, conservative with strong inner self and has a sense of responsibility. He has a good creditability and honors his word. He is loyal and worships one principle. " Hmm, I like to think that I possess those traits.

"He enjoys being in a serene environment and has the temperament of the Cow. " I dun need a serene environment. I just enjoy idling around.

"Sometimes, it is hard to get along with them.He will be able to listen when he has calm down. "
Cow People like me are rather obstinate. They just refuse to acknowledge that they are wrong even when the facts are presented. Maybe we are even worse than mules.

"He is diligent at work, but will only be able to finish his task only under instructions. He does not have the courage to try out new venture. They do not have the patience and courage to earn too much money. Hence, the Cow works hard and silently. "

Heres my interpretation of the Cow:
A thickheaded, servile and bovine creature which only knows how to slog. He derives masochistic pleasures from the throes of constant flagging and dragging plough across the fields, chained to the cumbersome yoke, which he has gradually grown accustomed to. He knows that he is not like the hens n cocks who just mate and lay eggs. Nor is he like the gregarious parrot who knows how to carry the farmer's balls and talk himself out of situations. Hence, he has to work.

Sometimes, he dreams briefly about lovely pastures and sexy cows with milk-dripping nipples but often dimisses his dreams quickly with guilt for harbouring those lazy and filthy thoughts. He thinks the dreams he have are akin to the pile of manure that he just defecated. Full of bullshit. Hastily, he shakes his head to jolt himself back to reality. He lifts his eyelids desultorily to glimpse at the afternoon sky.

The sun continues to blaze at the field.

Fucking hot weather, he thought to himself. Cant wait for nite to cum.
Sure and steadfast, he continues to thread through the fields, hoping that every step he takes will draw him closer to dusk.
He mumbles and grumbles but never voices his complaints. The woes of the moo goes unheard because he is afraid of incurring the wrath of the farmer and disrupting the harmony.

Suffering in silence, quietly beneath the scorching sun.

Was clearing my cabinet during my room spring cleaning session today. Its amazing when you look at the paraphernalia of junk goods and useless stuff that i keep- scrap paper, half written letters, printouts of song lyrics, several outdated copies of I-magazines, Newman (which I tot featured not-too-bad photos), broken stationery which still exhibited some aesthetic value, smelted mentos covered with ants, Econs handouts which I forgot to distribute to my class because I misplaced them (zzz).

I discovered some buried 'treasures' amid all the junk. Dug up my sec 1 chinese file. Lucky thing it hasnt been devoured by silverfishes. 1998. 8 yrs...wad have I done during this 8 yrs?!

My file's content page. With my assessment and test papers that I'm proud of. Probably the only subject that I truly loved during my school days but the O lvl results disappointed me.

Used to spend inordinate amout of time decorating and writing those journals/ random musings for my Chinese teacher to grade. A pity most of the pieces have been "kidnapped" from my file. Up till now, I still do not know the whereabouts of the pieces that were originally meant to be sent to publishers.

One of the remaing inferior products.

Found a tabloid newspaper which we did as part of our English assignment. Enjoyed doing groupwork during those years, especially during brainstorming sessions where people churn out all sort of wacky and wicked ideas.

I've noticed that the older I get, the more cluttered my cabinets and drawers become. I become more reluctant to discard useless items that just take up space even though they serve no practical purpose. Its like these objects still retain some soul, a part of me, within them. I dunno. Maybe the sentimental self just wants to retain a part of history that I've experienced.

Time seems to flow in a different dimension after you pass 18. The gigantic clock seems to tick faster. You get the feeling that you have to clutch onto these little pieces of mementos before your memory of the past starts to fade out of existence as you draw towards adulthood.

First blood

Anyone who plays DOTA loves first blood. When a player's hero executes the 1st hero kill of the game, he/she will get extra 200 gold and also the "First blood" verbal acknowledgement. They are some players who go to all costs just to gain that first blood satisfaction. It feels damn good when you get the first kill, especially when you blast your audio speakers and listen to the sound of 'First blood' reverberating throughout your room.

Everyone loves coming in first or being first. First to spear the joystick into the altar at the break of dawn of Chinese New Year , first to board the bus. First in the queue to be served the lousy food in the camp canteen. Sometimes, I wonder what's the obsession with being first? Is it due to the 'kiasu' nature of Singaporean? Perhaps the winning mentality has been deeply entrenched and infused to us since young, given the competitive society that we are in, that it has become a subconscious part of us.

Some people enjoy setting records by doing crazy things like downing 50 bottles of Guinness stouts just to get into the Guinness record or becoming the first Asian to scale 7 greatest peaks in the world. They brand their acts of temerity as a form of challenge and purports with loads of silly reasons. Just ask Annabelle Chong why she wanted to do the feat of having sex with 251 men in 10 hours. Alas, I've heard two women have broken her record. Its standing at 500 men now. Records will always be shattered because there will always be crazier people than you.

I saw a piece of depressing news in Today yesterday. It reported that vaginal reconstruction is now widely embraced and the most sought after plastic surgery. They can even tighten the muscles there and reconstruct the entire hymen from scratch (not that scratch) with hymenoplasty aka revirgination. No flaws. Just like a squeaky clean virgin even though you have seen more than a thousand visitors to your abode. I reckon the word chastity will be removed from the dictionary in no time. Hymens no longer = authentic virgins. :(

Maybe being first is not so necessary after all.

Fixing the pieces

Spent the day trying to assemble the thousand pieces jigsaw. Its supposed to be a Bleach family picture of the 13 shinigamis. There are only six of them in this puzzle. Theres still another seven of them in another 1000 puzzle waiting for us to fix them up after the great fall.
Hopefully we can finish this by tonight and move on to the next. Then we have to find a way to get this up onto the wall..still need to shop for a decent frame...and also pump in money to get the frames.... sigh. ..Hobbies like these are real costly.

Dun fuck around with Std

I should have heeded advice and not taken the risk. There's a threshold to the amount of deterrence that protection can provide. Now, I'm afflicted with this terrible, chancrous, itching rash that's all over my body.

I cant pinpoint the source which triggered the rash to swarm my entire body. However, I suspect its an allergy either to the medicine I took or the excessive wine/ alcohol which I consumed during Christmas. I believe it's the latter because my body has a low tolerance level towards alcoholic drinks. This disgusting rash is depriving me of my sleep and causing my body to twitch wildly in the office.

I used to have a rather severe case of eczema. For those who dunno what is eczema, it's a skin condition due to excessive reaction by the immune system producing inflamed, irritated and sore skin. I'm sure you've seen people with flaky, raw, bleeding skin. I call it the crocodile skin. That's why I liked reptiles when I was young because I thought I resembled them. Trust me, it's a mentally and psychologically troubling disease. You have to cope with the stares, your torn self esteem, your own anger/frustration, the 100s and 1000s of weird concoctions and remedies 'guaranteed' to cure your condition (but always fail to work) and the worst part, the itch. Luckily for me I managed to grow out of my condition when I hit puberty.

The itch is infectious. It begins with a minor prickling sensation. Your hand slide down to assuage the itch., by generating some friction on the skin. That little action is enough to spark off a disaster to your poor skin and bring about a severe case of dermatitis. The more your rub and scratch, the redder the patch starts to become and you start to derive a sick form of pleasure from the scratching of your skin. You start to intensify and accelerate your clawing strokes but you are oblivious to these because you are experiencing a semi-orgasmic-scratching pleasure. The blood starts to flow and stain your nails. You don't care. Not even the flowing blood can stop you from prolonging your pleasure. In fact, the pleasure is heightened with the addition of fluid since it serves to lubricate the friction. However, just like every wonderful moment must come to an end, your end comes when your hands get too wet and the metallic iron smell of your blood hits your nose. The aftermath is enough to make your feel a little guilty and giddy. When you raise your hands and you notice that it's all bloody. You dun even want to bother examining your wound. All thanks to that little itchy bitch.

Misaki Itoh!!

If beauty could be described any other way, it would be Misaki Itoh.