Tricky Wondalund…

what’s on tap, in the mind, on the lips and everything else

Archive for November, 2006

diner chez moi

Posted by sideshowjudy on 29th November 2006

other than receiving a random email from my housemates stating, "Pauline, whatever we did to you, it’s ok. We forgive you, you can come home now.", nothing much has been going down. i am trying to wear my new half-bred parisian status with some amount of aplomb. i kid. i am finally back in fonty - escaping the prettiness of paris and back in da bleau. diner chez moi - it finally happened, after loads of hits and misses.

i got to make my 5-minute prep time roast lamb, which everyone, including myself was highly impressed with. its great when even u r surprised.

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dario made some pasta amatriciana, but the winner of the night, was daniel’s brigadeiro, which was super super yummy. it’s basically heavy condensed milk (stirred preciously for 40 minutes, till your arm falls off.) with powdered choc and nice little choco sprinkles. of course, it was josie’s hand that was close to falling off…

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voila brigadeiro…

P1000488 i pose for the pleasure of me guests. i dream about chowing down on the lamb leg (secretly).

P1000490 as usual, i attempt to take photos of benoit, who is now used to being a slimy dodger. despite mateo’s efforts to make him see the light that his true self should be modelling…. i try again…

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still blyrry! aiyah…give up.

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datarock…

Posted by sideshowjudy on 27th November 2006

despite rushing like mad dogs, as we usually do, Shota and I manage to make it to the Datarock show in the 20th arrondisment, which is a world and a half away from the posh and prettiness of central paris. Before being rewarded by the presence of Datarock, we were first tortured shitless by the world’s worst french rock band, that has delusions that they are the cross-breed of motley crue and guns n roses. they didnt even have a bassist and suffice to say, nobody knew their name. (but of course!) Their music was so shockingly apalling that i had to run out and seek myself a beer. As usual, the crowd at french rock gigs are this smorgasbord of weird office folks, kids and generally old rockers and artsy hippies. This country does not make sense…what happened to stereotypes? My brain cannot compute without the rigid laws of stereotypical behaviour. The only good thing about playing a gig in france is that u will always get some sympathetic dancing feet - but lets not go there - quality of dancers would be super important to me but clearly not to the motley/cru/gnr ripoff band.

Datarock did not disappoint and played a great, great, great show. disko-rock at its best. The band had matching track suits,all in red (quite reminiscient of Erland Oye’s track suit look in I’d Rather Dance With You video) and guzzled beer as they belted out their songs. Datarock is the only band i have ever watched that has played a karaoke track BACK to the audience, demanding a singback of "I’ve had the time of my life" - life best soundtrack tune from Dirty Dancing, a good trip down memory lane. And I shock myself that I remember all the lyrics…i mean all. Post-show, we discover the cutest Chilean restaurant with uber cheap and amazing cuisine. The Chilean place is authentic to a T - i forget that we were ever in Paris, with the wines, traiteurs and brasseries. Of course, it is also authentically placed beside…an African resturant - complete with plastic chairs and white flourescent lighting (all very authentic).

P1000709 Saturday was spent dancing the night away at Favela Chic, where it was raided basically by 20 Inseaders, all very drunken and not fun the next morning when i get up with the world’s worst hangover. i mean, it’s super nasty. But the day was too beautiful and warm not to hang out, so us 3 musketeers head out for a brisk walk, from The Marais to Notre Dame.

and that’s how all good weekends go, cafe hunting, coffee, ice-creams, long walks, gossing and then…the reality of monday hits, where you realize you have not one but 3 case assignments due. And then, I find myself asking why am i taking these ridiculously hard classes again? You know what my secret fear is? Having spent the last year, waking up to a To-Do list that is at least as long as China’s humanitarian violations, I am wondering what’s gonna happen when i wake up on Dec 14 and I have no more classes, and I would be officially graduated from Insead. Oh my god, i feel panicked and worried that this blank space in my once-filled notebook will drive me insane. (there is this sharp, ringing sound in my left ear as we speak), so if anyone has any great ideas about travelling or going to a cafe to read, let me know. boo.

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hthe closeness of strangers

Posted by sideshowjudy on 22nd November 2006

I am sitting here with no water nor heat. The house is being fixed up and since i am waiting in my makeshift bathrobe, which is essentially my towel wrapped around meself, i thought i would try to rewrite this blog - for the third time.

I come from a country with a lot of people, and you would think that iwould be used to close proximity of other human beings. After all, i grew up in a public housing estate, where peering out of one’s window - you see your neighbour scratching his butt while frying oyster-sauced vegetables. It’s all good…but still, I can’t imagine how close people get in the smokey confines of parisian cafes. I sit there and i can smell the scent of the girl next to me. It’s a mixture of walnut and almonds, and her perfume is faint but present.

Everyone writes in Parisian cafes and i feel the same pressure to dribble some crap out, even though i am not much of a pen-meister to say the least. And everyone has this droopy air, smoking their lungs out and sucking on cigarettes as if it was the last draw of breath that they would take. It’s funny. And the chairs are all cloistered together, to make for uncomfortable scooting, just to create opportunities where one might brush past your neigbhour, or peer into their manuscript and give well-placed comments. In any other Anglo-saxon country, any physical contact would result in irritated sucking noises.

And all that has become french to me is none more manifested than watching this 3 hour long marathon saga of a french film. Comment Je me suis dispute…(ma vie sexualle)…where it’s about leading a french/ parisian life. It’s about love, and wants and insecurities and the loathing of one’s self and self-discovery through sex (albeit wanton, perhaps unnecessary) and being selfish, taking the experience of others, just to improve your own. It’s complicated and there is no end to the complications and at some point in time, we all get lost in why life is so emotionally draining and why all the characters are as screwed up as they are. It’s all very…French.

Having built a fair list of excuses in my time, with famous one-liners such as, "Really? I totally forgot." and "But I thought…or assumed" or "Is it my turn?" - "That’s soooo french" has become a living and breathing excuse for all things inexplicably french. The thin and grouchy women with tousled hair, the eating french man, the numerous protests and complaints from probably one of the most disaffected nations in the world. That’s so french. La vie mavaise (if there is such a phrase).

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weekend

Posted by sideshowjudy on 20th November 2006

How does one know that they really aren’t into a particular job? Answer: you forget to bring your suit. I am not freaking kidding. Firstly, I thought I was being super smart by driving into paris the night before my interview so I could hang out, relax and chill. Upon reaching Paris at 1am…I realize that I had left my interview suit by the door in my room. There comes a time in one’s life where you just know that you have lost it. And that reality was for me, at that moment, a sure signal that I had really just lost it. Thank godness Holly came to the rescue and had a suit to lend me (not my style but beggars cant be choosers. thankfully, i was not interviewing for a fashion job.)

Home free. or so I thought. Interviews done, time to chill out in Paris…yes, I was still suffering from a slight fever and a cough, but going to the Wolf Mother show on Friday was pretty cool. They were louder and more dynamic than I thought - somewhat of a cross between Led Zep, Guns n Roses with The Rapture, all bundled in one.

P1000571 Heading out to the 18th arrondisment is a strange world of immigrants, wolf whistles, sex shops and kebab joints, with weird punters shouting Marlboro trois euros!

P1000575 P1000596 There is some kind of sickness bug going around. Jeff was down with some crap illness and i was still struggling from a fever and sore throat. still, we attempted to put on brave smiles for this pic. I am sure Shota is just trying out his supposed French artistisan (not artiste) look.

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Jeff should ebay this smile - quite priceless.

Paris is all about food, as usual. despite our craving to go to Cafe L’industrie…Lyon insists that we eat Asian, and that is only after making crap statements that he was sick of Chinese food. can die…that man is one infruriating joker. I tink we all face connundrums in life, but none like Lyon Shen, whose key concerns volley between healthy eating and taking a drag from his 10th cigarette.

P1000556  And Paris can be cold…very cold. and it’s this combination of the cold and wind and the sickness bug…and i am back down with some nasty food poisoning. Nasty.

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More pictures

Posted by sideshowjudy on 10th November 2006

Here are Deanna’s photos of Sufjan Stevens… http://www.flickr.com/photos/50487897@N00/sets/72157594368826772/

And another photo site that I love. Check out Florent’s (LeFlow) site. Now this is photography that rocks :) http://www.athebergement.com/leflow/

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Sufjan Stevens and the Incredible Birds or Butterflies of Flight

Posted by sideshowjudy on 9th November 2006

it’s been a pretty non-descript week, with loads that is in the planning phase but tonight…tonight has been really special. Thanks to Deanna who was kind enough to invite me to watch Sufjan Stevens with her! I manage to convince her to motor our way to Paris and we head to the Bataclan club - a venue that tonight, was transformed into a theatre of sorts with nice cinema chairs all lined up for Sufjan.

I don’t know if you have heard Sufjan but let me attempt to give a short (possibly unjustified) description about him. He is part Nick Drake meets Elliot Smith but with a lot more hope, optimism and quirkiness. It’s almost Josh Rouse (happy melodies) but with a big dash of the hippiness of The Polyphonic Spree. So imagine, singer-songwriter, trabadour, melancholic sweetness, but with high school-style band on backing horns and beautifully idyllic lyrics that sing about life in middle america. I was a Sufjan fan sure…but after watching him live…i find myself being so excited that I have to blog all about tonight before I forget it all tomorrow.P1000417

I didn’t know quite what to expect. Except I was excited! Opening act was St. Vincent - one of Sufjan’s core backing singer. She is like a Feist in my opinion. Beautiful voice, rather distorted, slightly brash guitars set against her tearful voice. So interesting that I bought her EP. Very cool.

P1000418 I think she looks like Imogen Heap from Frou Frou fame. I am also trying to convince Deanna to don 80’s tights again, since we must all be fashion victims :)

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I had heard that Sufjan does weird things on stage - like come on with erhm cheerleaders and stuff. and then, we saw the plastic SUperman and Santa blow-ups, it was a good lead on to what was going to come on stage.

P1000450 chekkit. It’s le superhero from the zero town of Illinois.

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Yes, so Sufjan and his entire full-sized horn/brass section emerges…in wings. We like the fashion, its 60’s lapelled camp meets American college garage with….wings. And it works for Sufjan Stevens no doubt. Despite the songs being heart-wrenchingly personal and sweet, the wings never got in the way :) And by the way, he played a Steinway & Sons piano…(another motivating reason why I want one!)

P1000439  And then there are a lot of songs about flight, sky, wings, birds, christmas. Sufjan played most of his stuff from Michigan, Illinois and 7 Swans albums - which is great cos I am a fan from most of these tracks. Some of the most tuneful tracks he played tonight were "This is the worst Christmas", "You look lovely in that Dress".  I imagine Sufjan Stevens as the guy that every girl in high school wished they dated, because he was cute and he wrote songs about you and for that one moment, you would feel like you were at the top of the world, and that nothing else mattered, but the sky, and taking flight into an imaginery world of horns, acoustics and melodious harmonies. His grandma may not like his music but I think everyone in the audience was rapt.

Post-concert, Deanna and I decided to continue our Americana journey (only rightfully so) and headed to…erh…Buffalo Grill, so we could be all gung-ho about meat and stuff. Except, in France, we never quite get the feeling that we are anyway else but France. Firstly, there is thick cream sauce on the salad, then the steak is served with mustard. And the menu has steak tartare and erh…all the fish dishes are titled Poisson and weird un-dinerlike desserts such as plat du formage, creme brulee are on the menu. Hiyah…my hopes dashed. should have gone to KFC instead. bleah.

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the happy man-hole - have u seen this cheeky bastard anywhere?

P1000472 gratituous smile shot-from ingesting a colony of poulet.

Satisfaction, satisfaction, satisfaction. all around.

By the way, it’s Vorspiel Friday AGAIN. so see u all at the bar tomorrow!! we must sneak in Sufjan for posterity’s sake. Jeff on the decks. new faces, new talents - i am happy that Vorspiel is growing to have its own following and avid fans. Thank u everyone!

Vf

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Modern People do depend on marriage?!

Posted by sideshowjudy on 9th November 2006

here is a funny article from the New York Times, sent to me by Deanna.

"In fact, the number of people who depended totally on a spouse for important conversations, with no other person to turn to, almost doubled, to 9.4 percent from 5 percent. Not surprisingly, the number of people saying they didn’t have anyone in whom they confided nearly tripled."

How much of this I believe? Every bit, it’s almost part of being in a more globalized world with increasing distractions and more transient relationships. In spite of being constantly surrounded by people, we are also increasingly lonely. That sucks. But thank god at business school, all we care about is making money, getting in on the upside of stock prices and worrying about the next hard-to-find restaurant runs out on table bookings. Hah. And i almost kid you not.

Editorial Desk; SECTA

Too Close For Comfort

By Stephanie Coontz

1249 words

7 November 2006

The New York Times

Late Edition - Final

21

English

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company. All Rights Reserved.

OLYMPIA, Wash. — EVER since the Census Bureau released figures last month showing that married-couple households are now a minority, my phone has been ringing off the hook with calls from people asking: ”How can we save marriage? How can we make Americans understand that marriage is the most significant emotional connection they will ever make, the one place to find social support and personal fulfillment?”

I think these are the wrong questions — indeed, such questions would have been almost unimaginable through most of history. It has only been in the last century that Americans have put all their emotional eggs in the basket of coupled love. Because of this change, many of us have found joys in marriage our great-great-grandparents never did. But we have also neglected our other relationships, placing too many burdens on a fragile institution and making social life poorer in the process.

A study released this year showed just how dependent we’ve become on marriage. Three sociologists at the University of Arizona and Duke University found that from 1985 to 2004 Americans reported a marked decline in the number of people with whom they discussed meaningful matters. People reported fewer close relationships with co-workers, extended family members, neighbors and friends. The only close relationship where more people said they discussed important matters in 2004 than in 1985 was marriage.

In fact, the number of people who depended totally on a spouse for important conversations, with no other person to turn to, almost doubled, to 9.4 percent from 5 percent. Not surprisingly, the number of people saying they didn’t have anyone in whom they confided nearly tripled.

The solution to this isolation is not to ramp up our emotional dependence on marriage. Until 100 years ago, most societies agreed that it was dangerously antisocial, even pathologically self-absorbed, to elevate marital affection and nuclear-family ties above commitments to neighbors, extended kin, civic duty and religion.

St. Paul complained that married men were more concerned with pleasing their wives than pleasing God. In John Adams’s view, a ”passion for the public good” was ‘’superior to all private passions.” In both England and America, moralists bewailed ”excessive” married love, which encouraged ”men and women to be always taken up with each other.”

From medieval days until the early 19th century, diaries and letters more often used the word love to refer to neighbors, cousins and fellow church members than to spouses. When honeymoons first gained favor in the 19th century, couples often took along relatives or friends for company. Victorian novels and diaries were as passionate about brother-sister relationships and same-sex friendships as about marital ties.

The Victorian refusal to acknowledge strong sexual desires among respectable men and women gave people a wider outlet for intense emotions, including physical touch, than we see today. Men wrote matter-of-factly about retiring to bed with a male roommate, ”and in each other’s arms did friendship sink peacefully to sleep.” Upright Victorian matrons thought nothing of kicking their husbands out of bed when a female friend came to visit. They spent the night kissing, hugging and pouring out their innermost thoughts.

By the early 20th century, though, the sea change in the culture wrought by the industrial economy had loosened social obligations to neighbors and kin, giving rise to the idea that individuals could meet their deepest needs only through romantic love, culminating in marriage. Under the influence of Freudianism, society began to view intense same-sex ties with suspicion and people were urged to reject the emotional claims of friends and relatives who might compete with a spouse for time and affection.

The insistence that marriage and parenthood could satisfy all an individual’s needs reached a peak in the cult of ”togetherness” among middle-class suburban Americans in the 1950s. Women were told that marriage and motherhood offered them complete fulfillment. Men were encouraged to let their wives take care of their social lives.

But many men and women found these prescriptions stifling. Women who entered the work force in the 1960s joyfully rediscovered social contacts and friendships outside the home.

”It was so stimulating to have real conversations with other people,” a woman who lived through this period told me, ”to go out after work with friends from the office or to have people over other than my husband’s boss or our parents.”

And women’s lead in overturning the cult of 1950s marriage inspired many men to rediscover what earlier generations of men had taken for granted — that men need deep emotional connections with other men, not just their wives. Researchers soon found that men and women with confidants beyond the nuclear family were mentally and physically healthier than people who relied on just one other individual for emotional intimacy and support.

So why do we seem to be slipping back in this regard? It is not because most people have voluntarily embraced nuclear-family isolation. Indeed, the spread of ”virtual” communities on the Internet speaks to a deep hunger to reach out to others.

Instead, it’s the expansion of the post-industrial economy that seems to be driving us back to a new dependence on marriage. According to the researchers Kathleen Gerson and Jerry Jacobs, 60 percent of American married couples have both partners in the work force, up from 36 percent in 1970, and the average two-earner couple now works 82 hours a week.

This is probably why the time Americans spend socializing with others off the job has declined by almost 25 percent since 1965. Their free hours are spent with spouses, and as a study by Suzanne Bianchi of the University of Maryland released last month showed, with their children — mothers and fathers today spend even more time with their youngsters than parents did 40 years ago.

As Americans lose the wider face-to-face ties that build social trust, they become more dependent on romantic relationships for intimacy and deep communication, and more vulnerable to isolation if a relationship breaks down. In some cases we even cause the breakdown by loading the relationship with too many expectations. Marriage is generally based on more equality and deeper friendship than in the past, but even so, it is hard for it to compensate for the way that work has devoured time once spent cultivating friendships.

The solution is not to revive the failed marital experiment of the 1950s, as so many commentators noting the decline in married-couple households seem to want. Nor is it to lower our expectations that we’ll find fulfillment and friendship in marriage.

Instead, we should raise our expectations for, and commitment to, other relationships, especially since so many people now live so much of their lives outside marriage. Paradoxically, we can strengthen our marriages the most by not expecting them to be our sole refuge from the pressures of the modern work force. Instead we need to restructure both work and social life so we can reach out and build ties with others, including people who are single or divorced. That indeed would be a return to marital tradition — not the 1950s model, but the pre-20th-century model that has a much more enduring pedi-gree.

Stephanie Coontz, a history professor at Evergreen State College, is the author of ”Marriage, a History: How Love Conquered Marriage.”

Document NYTF000020061107e2b700039

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The Prince of Florence

Posted by sideshowjudy on 9th November 2006

So, boardgame night gave us a mad reason to do several things: hang out with a bunch of most excellent people, eat my cooking - of which, i made very homestyle chinese/ singaporean food, bitch on about jobs, and try our hand at winning The Prince of Florence. There is something homely about boardgames and it makes one feel at ease - with great food, wine, beer and nuts, it almost seems like if we weren’t all at Insead and had classes at 10am the next morning, that we could go on forever in this biosphere of safe fun.

P1000400 I could not resist! I made malay-style fried chicken, with thick battered tumeric flour. Best!

P1000392 Carl- with his most consultant face on, convincing us that the Nobel prize for Economics really doesn’t exist. once again, he is almost like a broken record and this pick-up line has lost its charm now… :)

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Ralph, who has to listen to this dribble while really…just thinking about chocolate. Ralph brought the best Lindt choc to dinner and we all ruined our slim diets. goodbye waistlines!

P1000406 Cris, in all his intensity, made a bet with himself to win the game, alas, we have carl and ralph - both gamers and game theorists. not sure which is worse.

P1000411 Lyon, being pressured by Carl to make a quick economic decision, whom ultimately falters under pressure. But we are all surprised that Lyon lasted the game, given his tenacity to fade away.

P1000413 The high spun game of The Prince of Florence. very many little pieces and in german too.

P1000409 Even matty swung by for tea, tart and strategic advice to cris (who still lost).

P1000405 Beau, lost out the chance to chow on my food, decides to opt for instant noodle option. bleah….still, truimphant from his poker game.

The best part…i wake up this morning to 2 dogs fucking in front of my car. this is slightly awkard. i think they knew it and so did i, so i retreated back to the house until the deed was done. wretched beings! I am being constantly reminded that there are all sorts of mammal interminglings going on and i am quite out of it. This is of course in addition to sending a mistake email to someone asking him if he had "stimulator software". What is going on??? Leaving off, the stars of my morning:

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dinner!

Posted by sideshowjudy on 7th November 2006

One of the best things about being in Fonty (vs SIngapore) is being invited to house dinners. We tend to forget how far our euros takes a stretch and the amazing spaces that people live in here. Dinner tonight was at Thomery, thanks to Clodagh’s invite. Some of my special peeps were there and we end up bantering about our opinions on relationships, love and life. Alon has this to say, "I think it’s all bullshit, if you love someone then you do whatever it takes to make them happy. But I know nothing about love. I am married."

Irony. I think so. In modern man-made terms, I am starting to believe that one can love without marriage or one can have marriage without love. Or maybe, there is no such thing. Love itself is just a man-made concept and we can wholly attribute emotion to chemical reactions and pheromones. Highly complex, more risky than  a deriative and totally encumbering. That’s my discount rate for modern life. We all need advisors and despite being in an environment where there are more consultants and bankers per sq meter, and where advice is clearly available and almost free - why is it that we a) still need advice, being advisors ourselves b) can’t seem to apply the very same logic and principles to our lives? It’s a funny one. I dont expect any answers.

And time flies, when one is having fun. I cherish P5, it’s been a great time for winding down, getting together with friends and yakking about post-Insead endevours. It’s awesome to know that your classmates will become entrepreneurs, start investment funds, or simply just become high-powered consultants and bankers. Interesting times, slightly intimidating but nonetheess, interesting. One should start a betting fund, betting on who would make the most successful graduate. And perhaps, we could evolve an index tracking fund over time, just to make sure we get average returns on our bets. I kid.

Boardgame night tomorrow. I have promised to trash Carl-Johan. For those that dont play strategy games that require long translations (since game is in German) or use economics, stay away from The Prince of FLorence. I rub my hands with glee. I may suck at chess but I am sure i will suck even more at this! But as long as I kick Carl’s ass - that’s fine by me. kakaka.

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Liger liger

Posted by sideshowjudy on 6th November 2006

ok, this is freaky but our lunch convo today got deep into the arcane depths of…The Liger. A cross between Tiger and Lion - the liger has been cross-bred in captivity as a supercat. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FahfsKOhMzE Watch the liger in action - it almost looks cheesy and fake, especially with the animal scientist that resembles a porn-star lookalike.

and if you are really bored…you can watch the latest rendition of Superman…Indian style. http://www.stomptokyo.com/movies/s/superman-indian.html

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