tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117432412024-12-07T14:52:18.367+08:00Ahhhem. Throat irritation.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.comBlogger570125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-63568958970701568872022-08-27T21:59:00.000+08:002022-08-27T21:59:01.013+08:00

Perhaps I should, perhaps I shouldn't. Living in the past. In a dream. In a world of my own. By myself. Reconcile to a lonely existence and be alright with that. Indeed, perhaps.

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-84613340849674761512016-10-24T23:12:00.000+08:002016-10-24T23:50:45.235+08:00

Early this year, I visited my sister in Adelaide. She's been there for over ten years and I've never once gone. Seriously. It was about time. It was long past time, in fact. I love the place, for sure, in spite of the scorching summer sun. Adelaide is beautiful. The highlight of this highlight of 2016 is the three-day, thousand-kilometer, road trip that we took from Adelaide to Melbourne,

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-65545371785404442262016-10-20T23:37:00.003+08:002016-10-20T23:39:50.518+08:00

This is the first post of 2016 and I really didn't want it to be a rant. This is a rant. A while ago, my gym served some finger food in conjunction with an event they were holding. I'd just come out of a Fitball class and the ladies (my "classmates") headed straight for the buffet table. I wasn't about to walk away from "free" food, even though I had dinner waiting for me at home. So, I took

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-33776760179885811592015-06-02T15:35:00.000+08:002015-06-02T15:35:00.457+08:00

A while ago, I came across this "poster" someone made and put on social media. It asserts that self-centered individuals behaving badly are referred to as pigs. Of course, this doesn't come as a surprise, as many people regularly use "pig" in name-calling those who are overweight and lazy, often extending to the unpleasant, mean, hateful etc. I've always felt that it is a great insult to

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-9581041164199340832015-05-30T20:35:00.001+08:002015-05-30T20:35:10.446+08:00

Whenever the issue of class attendance is raised, we hear groans. The students hate it that the university forces them to go for classes. We, the academics, hate it that we have to keep track of each students' presence in our classes. We don't like babysitting. Yes - we've all heard, and agreed with, the reasons: they're old enough to know what's best for them; good attendance does not correlate

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-35439078026053639792015-05-29T00:18:00.000+08:002015-05-29T00:19:20.659+08:00

1. I am alive! 2. I am very occupied. 3. I am using a sleep-tracking app that is telling me that I have accumulated a 3-plus-hour deficit since Monday, and it's half an hour past my "bedtime". Sleep tight, World!

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-60777152214804715952014-12-10T00:29:00.001+08:002014-12-10T00:29:08.288+08:00

My yoga teacher insists that inversion poses have youth-preserving and brain-enhancing powers. I can't say for sure, but logic dictates that they are very unlikely. If blood rushing to my head really does improve my cognitive abilities, I would have gained several IQ points by now, having been inverting myself into wall-supported handstands nearly every single night. I don't remember the exact

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-50177854715367278412014-10-21T00:22:00.003+08:002015-05-29T09:49:55.826+08:00

I returned from the capital of Sabah, Land Beneath the Wind, two weeks ago. It's taken me long enough to write a few words. A few. There should be more to come, I hope. While it is, one one hand, disadvantageous to travel alone - safety concerns and no one to share yummy seafood dinners / taxi fares / hearty laughter / silly vacation photography with - it is, on the other hand, very

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-9404139338342922822014-09-21T04:22:00.000+08:002015-05-29T09:50:14.689+08:00

I took up belly dancing about three years ago. It wasn't something I sought specifically... rather, there was a class on Saturday afternoons in my gym, and I thought - why not? It looked interesting and potentially effective in ridding me of a flabby belly, and the instructor was (still is) great-looking.  Dancing was never my thing - not when I was young, nor in my teens not even the

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-10908568843879563632014-08-13T00:26:00.001+08:002014-08-13T00:34:14.769+08:00

I started this post at least two or three months ago, but never got around to finish it. Somehow, now seems an apt time. A close friend asked if I was prescribed anti-depressants for my tummy problems last year. I wasn't. I don't think I had written about what happened with me exactly. Here it is. I had been unhappy for what may be a prolonged period. I had been stressed out by things I did not

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-79750617930354506602014-06-24T22:16:00.005+08:002014-06-24T22:16:39.872+08:00

Picture this: three ladies in short dresses and high heels were walking down a paved road, towards a building on the opposite block. In their path, was a drain, about a foot or so wide. They could either hop across it, or walk a further distance where a completely covered path exists. "Should we jump?" "We're in heels... what if we fall?" "It looks dangerous..." We decided to walk further, like

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-71750301724771019672014-05-29T22:58:00.001+08:002014-05-29T23:03:39.632+08:00

It is not without reluctance that I tagged this post under my reads. I am barely halfway through it, and have completely lost the will the proceed. I might some day - some very distant day - finish reading it, but I don't want to wait that long to write about it. I can't remember what of this book that caught my fancy. Perhaps it was the cover art (yes, I still make the mistake of judging

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-80305155989714287662014-05-26T22:57:00.001+08:002014-05-26T22:57:10.824+08:00

It wasn't that I forgot my password or anything. I'd just been burning myself out taking on more than I ought to. It was work, and well, research obligations, and more work. And as if I hadn't stretched my limits out quite enough, I took on an extra "project", for lack of a better word, for the sake of *ahem*... glory. And, a small sum, of course. Sometimes, I wish I were more regular. I wish I

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-38882797652730565882014-03-22T01:16:00.001+08:002014-03-22T01:18:22.715+08:00

There was once, when I was a child, laying in bed in the middle of the night, I heard weird sounds. I am convinced I was awake then - one would have to be awake to be trembling in fear - but I accept that I might had been only half-conscious, or completely unconscious and dreaming away. There is no way to determine that now. I was 8, maybe 9 years old, my family members were all fast asleep, and

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-25598534857627704692014-03-11T00:42:00.000+08:002014-03-11T00:42:27.781+08:00

I'm not sure I believe in them... but we sure could use one right now. My thoughts are with the 239 souls aboard MH370.

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-21965674702573755812014-02-26T23:47:00.003+08:002014-02-26T23:47:52.870+08:00

Sometimes, there are just so much on my mind I want to simply spell everything out... yet, as I'm sitting, staring at the blank screen, I have nothing to say. Certain things are too complicated; others too sensitive, or controversial, or at risk of putting others in trouble; there are those I feel reluctant to share under the semi-transparent cloak of anonymity. In short, I have so much, yet,

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-72878135672410640152014-02-17T23:28:00.001+08:002014-02-17T23:28:26.764+08:00

People talk. People talk behind people's backs. Do we all not know it already? I'm really stating the obvious here - rarely do people talk positively of others behind their backs. Of the negative things said, though some may be true, much, I believe, are likely to be false, or immensely exaggerated to appear worse. The reason is simple - it is more enjoyable putting people down. The reason it is

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-41734338948493188382014-01-04T01:44:00.002+08:002014-01-04T01:46:21.500+08:00

I once said, not entirely in jest, that December is like the weekend, and January is like Monday. Don't you agree? The very last month of every year is all holidays, festivities and taking days off just so they are not forfeited by the end of the year. January 1st is like Sunday night. January 2nd is when children start their first days at school, adults go back to their workplaces, and all

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-58525713989726046392013-12-31T17:55:00.000+08:002013-12-31T17:55:19.337+08:00

The year wasn't particularly better or worse than all the previous ones. Apart from functional dyspepsia, annoying rashes (on my forehead!) from an indeterminate allergen, and various joint injuries, I was in good health. I did not have any major breakthroughs in my research, nor contributed to my university in any monumental manner, but I gave my fair share of effort and energy, taught my

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-54743132628239373392013-12-24T01:26:00.001+08:002013-12-24T01:26:35.264+08:00

Two months ago, during Halloween season, my roomee's department organized a party in the office and everyone was expected to dress up, of course. My roomee spent quite some effort (by my standard - for her, she didn't consider borrowing a few items, buying a black tiara, and doing the makeup "a lot of effort") transforming herself into the Black Swan. I wondered then, for a moment, what I'd do if

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-45063568381011893242013-12-19T00:31:00.001+08:002013-12-19T00:31:44.500+08:00

We were, never in our existence, sure that we were worth this much trouble. But she thought differently. Granted, she probably did not expect the extent of the trouble she was signing up for, but she definitely thought we were worth the risk. So, there she was, half the world away, exchanging messages with a friend who would be temporarily located at the side of the globe where we were. The plan

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-62457242727374241602013-12-17T00:33:00.000+08:002013-12-24T01:38:58.570+08:00

I did not sleep well last night because I had a nagging pain in my right knee. Still do. The reason - I knocked it into stuff three times in the course of the day. Different furniture, same knee, same spot. I applied cold compression but it didn't help much. It still hurts. I expect it'll hurt for a couple more weeks, at least. What is worse is that this happened while the bruises I sustained on

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-32527756060425020632013-12-12T00:03:00.003+08:002013-12-12T00:03:39.965+08:00

The human memory is a very poor storage medium. The very questionable accuracy of recollections aside, the mind is much too easily tricked into seeing things not the way they really are and distracted from noticing perhaps crucial details. When the brain fails to connect completely the chains of events due to the imperfection of the memory, it invents details for filling in the blanks... and this

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-18122316337723182922013-12-07T00:25:00.000+08:002013-12-07T00:25:48.382+08:00

It was a feat that took two years to realize - an emotionally-charged, nostalgic trip down memory lane. It's been seven years. The food is every bit as good as I remember, the people every bit as nice and friendly (and they remember us, still!) I don't miss my old workplace, but I do, really do, miss this vegetarian mixed rice we used to have every single day.

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11743241.post-43261360367269128632013-11-29T00:02:00.000+08:002013-11-29T00:10:25.832+08:00

Right before I got my first degree, there was a period of time that I worked in a pre-school. Long story... (no, I'm not telling it all in this post) Once, I was asked to attend to the children as they woke from their afternoon nap. The youngest of the group was a 4-year-old girl - an adorable little thing with an angelic face. She burst into tears she moment she was awake, and wouldn't say what

neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05736390751761322339noreply@blogger.com0