It’s the end of the year (as Gene once sang - so sleep well tonight), but I thought that it would be a cool idea to record down some of the year’s hits and misses. And frankly, there have been more misses than hits. Sitting here, on 31 Dec, makes me feel almost nostalgic and somewhat pathetic that I am

1) not in some cafe at very least

2) been struck by a serious head-banging migraine that has lasted 2 days now

3) spent close to 1000 euros in the last 2 days paying backdated fines, tow truck services, rent etc. despite my new policy on living it “small”; - no, living it large ain’t my thing, i have succeeded in neither.

So, the misses include:

1. dealing the french police (one word of advice, avoid at all costs). The french police close from 12-2 pm, because even robbers siesta at those hours. It’s france and we love it.

2. dealing with french postal service - so i had to express deliver a package to canada and DHL at school was closed for the week, i had to use the french postal service, which only cost me 50 euros, that didnt even allow me to place a key in the package, since it was an express delivery for papers (how fucking bureaucratic).AND, on top of it all, i had to reduce my paper pile to half its weight because i was only allowed 250g. AND (yes, the story does not end), it will take 3 or more days to get to Canada - what do they do??? outsource to DHL? mua akakakaka. not to mention that i had to go to 4 different post offices becos most of them close on Saturdays! my gawd.

3. dealing with french banks - so, here is my shitty run in at BNP. I have about 50 euros worth of coins and frankly at this juncture, 50 euros is a lot of money. So i go in to make a deposit only to be told that it is not possible since the bank doesnt have a coin-counting machine. i am flabbergasted (is this really a 3rd world country?) and was told to go away and wrap my coinage in little paper rolls. It takes me 3 hours to do so and when i head back to the bank, the lady proceeds to REJECT the rolls of coins that had less than the alloted number of pieces. And THEN, she starts tearing my rolls of coins apart to RECOUNT them. i mean, why was i put to this torture in the first place. i swear i was being punished for not speaking french.

4. Getting slighted by underpaid wait staff at MacDs - i dont speak french, what can i say? and dont give me crap about eating there, there is only so much confit de canard one can handle.

5. French highway police - if u ever get pulled over. good luck to u. the french highway police are brutal, rude, mean, nasty and yell at you and make u cry. it’s totally humiliating.

The hits:

1. graduating in one piece; although there may have been hair loss along the way.

2. meeting some of the best and brightest people on this planet (some even have sense of humour)

3. having my gay-dar all screwed up because in Europe, all men cross their legs and wear colours.

4. eating confit de canard (it’s a close fight with roast duck) and drinking kirs till the sun comes up

5. aix-en-provence!

6. hanging at cafes that used to house great artists and writers ( i feel so privileged)

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But what of the yesterdays before this lightbulb moment?? Jeff, david and I went to Fleche D’or - an indie club in the 20th district. Very cool. with a very bad band playing that night, it was all this shoegazing music (how 1990’s is that?!). actually, they sounded exactly like the old sideshowjudy material - but hey, i was 15 so i guess at least i am not behind the curve. the whole band even has the same haircut. depressing. i can almost imagine auditioning for this band. "So hey, i am the world’s best guitarist, can i join your band?” “No, you cannot, you do not have same haircut” kua kua.

So, peishan has enlightened us on the concept of “Indie Yuppie”;. U can read Stereogum blogsite for more info. I have posted it as part of my links. But yes, if u grew up with REM, Belle and Sebastian, Ride, Radiohead and all those shoegazing bands of yore, and today have a real job (well, I don’t yet, but my NPV is huge), then u r an indie yuppie. Nooooooo….sob. i remember laughing at all these office slabrats that listened to shite like Michael Learns to Rock and feeling quite superior about my musical taste. But soon to be, i will be one of those office slabrats, but listening to The Killers and Joanna Newsom. great…or worst - best of Cafe Del Mar compilations (which I think Cafe del Mar No. 7 is the only respectable compilation to obtain, the rest are rubbish).

this is why the Louvre belongs to the world.

To the local french kids

To the ubiquitious and out-of-place japanese girls

and my fave, the chinese tour group - how can we do without them.

it seems apt that i start out my latest blog with Kings of Convenience’s The Build-Out, that features the lovely vocal lines from Feist. But I think it mirrors a bit of how i feel. It’s been a huge build out, starting out in the cold and unforgiving winter of January 2006, in a new village called Fontainebleau, mucking through tons of cases, understanding half of them (at best) and marveling at the complexity of yet another giant spreadsheet model. And suddenly, as soon as the build-up comes, it goes.

Graduation day. I think I should be happy, but driving through Parisian traffic and then having to fight my way to Versaille is simply waning. The ceremony feels necessary and not particularly life-changing. There were some important messages about maintaining one’s integrity and the importance of managing power and leadership. And then I realise that I didn’t take Power and Politics, nor Career Management and Self Assessment, nor PIMM. and suddenly, i feel like i missed out lots. But i do know how to calculate ROEs, do common-sized balance sheets and income statements and pander around with strange words like value creation - i think i can describe it but perhaps may face difficulty in illustrating it with stick-like figures a la Pictionary style.

Anyways, i took 4 photos during graduation, and then proceeded to get too depressed to take any more photos. and then got too hungry to to talk and too drunk to notice anything else. Ah well. Even if graduation is set against the magnificence of Chateau de Versaille…

a top highlight is taking photos with my P1-P2 crew. Reunited…and it feels so good…(Diana Ross would know it)

I am saved by the good food at Pierrot - a welcome relief against my agonizing hunger.

And then…nothing. no agenda, no stress and so begins a new chapter with new life. So, i attempt the Musee Picasso and learnt that one of the greatest modern geniuses of our century has an apt representation of women. the much larger-than-life arms of all his women figures is perhaps a naughty illustration of his innate understanding of the neediness of women, arms outstretched and everything.

And then…strasbourg. I was motivated by one of my favourite Rakes tune - Strasbourg, a small city on the east of france that was once germany and now has adopted the strange dialect of Alsatian (half french, half german) - i think the alsatian dog also hails from this region - a much smaller and intense version of its bigger brother - the german shepard. also, in this region, the concept of the christmas tree was invented. i am piecing all these disparate sources of information on Christmas - that Santa is actually Russian in origin and that the Christmas tree was an invention of Alsace…but can anyone tell me where the plastic angels that hang on christmas trees come from?

                   A quick perusal of the world famous christmas market in Strasbourg, Peishan and I try to spot all the ‘Made in Taiwan’ products. I think this is one of them.

But peishan and holly think it’s much more worthwhile to make out with the nutcracker statue. I don’t know man, i am surrounded by horny women and sourkraut. the fact that we live in a prostestant-runned hostel does not help. but the toilet was very clean, so it’s cool. they made us sleep on bolsters instead of pillows so it must be a religious thing. i count it as part of my religious experience. that, and all the sausages i have been ingesting. pooey.

And then, christmas. where one spends probably too much time cooking. but cooking is extremely good for the soul i figure, so i make roast and cheesecake and shota insists that guacamole is very christmas-y. since i am from insead, i believe in internationalism and am tenatively in agreement to guacamole as a christmas dish. it is after all green and red. and far more acceptable than berry cheesecake as a christmas dish. but life can be trying, because now my christmas menu has been pushed to absurd boundaries consisting of nachos, chimichurri sauce, guacamole, mulled wine, cheesecake and some poor pork that died so that we could eat. go figure. of course, the guest list consists of 3 orientals, 1 north asian and a french-american. there is no relation to s. america at all. i think i have seen pictures of impanema girls in hot bikinis but that is as far as my knowledge of s. america goes. however, it has been confirmed that some on the christmas guest list actually think themselves native/ s. american/ spanish/ italien and all things hot and sexy.

but you know what? merry christmas anyways, because it is the only time of the year where i can play jenga and make people eat my cheesecake as punishment.

with christmas around the corner, it’s hard not to be zesty. I am running around looking for presents - a failure in many respects since everything is Not in my budget. I end up writing a pathetic mail to my mum, asking her if she REALLY wanted a present and how about waiting till Jan - when everything goes on sale? I am indeed, putting my nego skills to great use.

However, I cannot resist stepping into this quaint little Salon de The right by the MUsee Picasso, a little knick-knackish joint that is knick-knackish in a kitschy French way. They make the bestest pastries and coffee. I even get a free fruit juice. The place is littered with old photos…of the proprieter as a young man. How cool is that? I always wondered what it would be like to do the same job forever, something that I came close to doing in my last firm but that’s another story.

All that remains undiscovered…I walk past the Musemum of Architecture Design, which I never knew existed before. It has a fascinating exhibit of modernist buildings around France, with large monolithic structures of glass, steel, curves and wood. Like all architectural shops that sell sexy books, they also sell sexy stationary, where I discover that Moleskin makes notebooks for musical notation. I feel tempted but I know that I will be too freaking lazy to pen musical squiggleys, so I gave THAT idea up…but not before thumbing through the entire notebook and finally reconciling that 15 euros was too much to spend on something i could never do justice to.

Holly and I decided to celebrate with roasting chicken. I think I am getting the hang of this roasting business and the house smells deeply of roast, mash and steamed vegetables. I thought we would wipe out the whole chicken but we barely make it through half the roast. loser, i tell u. THere was a time where i could clean off 8 pieces of KFC, just like that. i bask in my former appe-tidal glory. hrmph.

I read a funny article today in the new york times. apparantly, a bunch of real estate companies have decided to build lux apartments over the existing slums in India, which is not a new story at all. What they did try to do, is to practise some CSR and relocate a portion of the ex-slummers into the new apartments, for free. The reaction? Unexcited. It’s ironic to me just because given our background, we are always looking to materially better ourselves, without afterthought on what we really like. So it turns out that the ex-slummers hate the idea of being relocated to cleaner, posher environments with scheduled cleanings and proper ball courts. They had preferred their previous existence with the mosquito-infested lakes and sound of neigbourly chatter through thin wooden walls. The sense of community had been lost. They missed that.

It’s not everyday where one learns a lesson in dissecting needs vs wants. I lament about how we as MBAs bitch about how "little" money we make comparative to the one dude that made it into Goldman Sachs - and we gripe about how our CVs are not pristine and we did not get that interview with Mckinsey. And we forget, that we are the Top 10% of the world, in salaries and opportunities. But I digress…and I think you know what I mean, so think twice before you sign that standardised meal contract. I too, am falling prey to this and if i could, i would start a rock band and tour the world - except i have neither the talent nor the sustained will to wake up at 12pm everyday

I got invited to 7 Lezards by Anotoine on Thursday, a little Jazz club in the Marais to watch Ernest Dawkins Duo. It is the MOST undermarketed event ever. Although I had dragged Deanna, Paolo and eventually Moheed showed up, the audience comprised over 6 somewhat enthused individuals. Ernest put on a great show, playing creative improv jazz with some toplines from Thelonius Monk and had Phillip on percussions. Great stuff. He even comes over, hangs with us and we bitch about service leves in France - of course, I had taken a beating at BNP Paribas that very day and had loads to add to the conversation about the lack of service in France.

The basement room at 7 lezards is cute, with motifs and famous spray painted onto the walls. Everyone from Mozart to Martin Luther King had a spot - it was quite cool. None of the acts are miked up and we just let the acoustics of the place take care of the sound. pretty rad.

Intermission and we sit and chatter about broken beats, music in Paris, the club scene and how Paris is really a giant village and new sounds take forever to import their way here. I find out that Ernest Dawkins recorded with 4 Hero. Now, that is cool.

The next act, Jean-Jacque Elangue was a sax player, backed up by an excellent pianist and bassist. THey played more mainstream sounds, with covers from Miles Davis. But as deanna so nicely puts it, "It’s worth it just to see their facial expressions." I feel that way whenever I hear, play or watch people play. Music is very intense, it grips you and you have no choice but to sink in deep, revel in it and enjoy. It’s really not quite the same as doing a piece of consulting work or even worse, banking comps.

Mostly, it was a chilled night where the Parisian streets were quiet and even the famous falafal shop Chez Marianne was empty. And of course, I actually found a proper parking spot in Paris…is that luck or the grace of god?? i can’t tell these days

Wow, I realized when i got up this morning that this is the very first day. The first official day where school is now over. forever. i feel slightly disillusioned that i have nothing to do, except run errands, be frustrated by the inefficient staff at BNP and worry about what I ought to do about my notes. I will actually have time to pen a proper blog (ie. long and rambling)

Yesterday was a tearful day, and we all tried our best to make a big joke out of it. I attempted to rap our final Modeling presentation - how boring is modeling a Portfolio Optimization?? Very, i tell u! But Manish thought it would be too far out…hahaha. Ralph and I did get up to mischief in the PRAM class, and started taking photos of everyone. What a way to send off the crew - the very last lecture for the year, for the day. Significant? Aye.

Yay! How b-sch are these slides?! i like the bullet points v much.

paolo - attempting to look bored. and really is. he fell asleep twice during our final class.

In France, we exit en style…champagne for all!!

  chris - looking radically different from his "Priscilla wild-at-heart" persona the night before.

Professor Witt was totally nice about it and even allowed Ralph to hijack our presentation. Ralph had secretly changed our slides from "Presenting the political risk of oil companies in Venezula" to this…check it out.

We continued our tearful exit with The Last Supper, organized by Sara and Yanir. About 100 inseaders descended on Bistro Broc in Bourron-Malotte for a wonderful dinner.

Hungry Andy. He stole bread from every surrounding table and left all participants at our table, breadless. dude…

as usual, Sara did an impeccable job with all the seat placements.

1am - Paolo and I decide to crash a Rock party at Paris Paris - the hardest club to get into in Paris. Thankfully, Benoit put us on the list and we sleezed our way in. It’s a mini version of an indie night at Tavingstock down in London. I am super excited that I have finally made it into Paris Paris. The music is eclectic (like every random gig/ club in France), a mix of rap, rock, disco and soulfunk. Prince vs Eminem. Pretty cool. and everyone dresses 80’s spotting Converse kickers and Flock of seagulls type hairdo. my peeps. I get hit on only by drunken 50 year old men (At a rock night that is only via invite), this is pathetic. I think I no longer look 18…boo

  there is a big sign on the wall that says "Tout le monde est a (accent) toi". That’s right. Wise words…do I feel that way? You betcha…as soon as I can clear all my parking fines, sure

Thank you everyone, that made Cabaret a success! Logistically, it was a nasty affair, coordinating MBAs whom are all tough negotiators to show up for rehersals on time, to gather 2 acts prior to their performance…That was probably my key learning at Insead. How to manage difficult individuals

All things considered, the video only failed ONCE, and that was because…don’t laugh,  we had the computer on Mute. Shit like that happens, but everyone was very good-natured about it. The acts did their best and we had really some rare gems. Carl-Johan’s video, the Bollywood dancers, The Fakes, Ailin’s dance piece, Jean-Francois’ juggling act and of course The Priscillas. Amazing. Le Troubadour was the perfectly-sized location and there was more than enough beer, wine and food flowing (quite unlike the last Cabaret).

The org committee had been panicking that we wouldnt be able to sell tickets cos right up till yesterday, the response had been good, but slightly lukewarm. Of course, things turned around at 12 in the afternoon where we had to Stop selling tickets because the venue would have been overbooked otherwise.

It’s probably the first time that we have had The Partners perform and they did a little doo wop track to the dreary lives of being a partner - terrible activities that included wine tasting, horseback riding, french lessons and making babies

kudos to everyone that came, wept and had loads of fun. It was my pleasure to entertain you…

xx

here is my farewell set! Last words are being repeatedly echoed in the hallways today - "i can’t believe this is my last class of my MBA…" there have been many moments of shared regret and sense of loss, and today…this is one of them.

  chin up, and head out there to rock the world, because i know you all will.

and by popular demand…i have uploaded my lyrics to my song - Har Det (which means "Goodbye in Norwegian""). do give me your comments! CIAO funksters.

this is the favorite time of the year for me. It’s almost christmas (Which means i ought to reward myself for a gruelling year) and school is almost over. I finished my last assignment today and the weight’s off my shoulders. Music is a great first way to enjoy myself and while others record Prince covers, i got to work on my new track with Jeff and Jean-francois for cabaret! I wrote Har det as a duet but i will be singing it mostly alone this time. A pity but still, at least the song sees light of day. Jeff does backing vocals and I get to do my pianica solo. I had almost forgotten the joy of jamming in a band and post jam session at the Insead bar, i worked on the piano for over 2 hours. All the more I am convinced that post-Insead, the way to go IS to take piano lessons and get up to standard again.

Check out the posters. Am tooting my own horn here but please excuse me, it’s my final finale. The great thing about business school and life in general - one never stops learning. I got to exercise my Adobe Illustrator muscles this time around. I even did a little movie file for the marketing campaign. As with all things Insead, marketing was a last pile on for me, even though I was more interested to do stage ops - given that the last cabaret’s stage ops were minging. I like the little black chair - it has an Emily touch to it, which was the intention.

anyhoos, i did think about putting up a dance and when i tried out a little routine in my tiny bedroom, i realized that my body is now so heavy and fat that i can’t even do splits anymore. Long gone are the days where i could choreograph and dance. boo. it sux! Arghs, so i watched Step Up - one of those dancing flicks that make you feel all wowed that human bodies can do amazing things such as turns, flips, kicks…all to hip hop beats. ah well, lets hope for a second coming. hope…that is the only thing remaining. *wink*

So, countdown to Cabaret - no excuses…see u there. It’s gonna be loads of fun. What to wear? I am thinking a big frou frou skirt with a 50’s broach. Lucille ball is definitely in fashion these days.

alright, now to work - got loads of songs to cut and organizing it hard work but what else good is a consultant’s brain if not to be very very linear…. ?!

9 more days and I graduate. and still 5 more papers to go. impossible - u bet. Give and take a couple of days here and there, my time in france is almost to an end. There are days when i feel a tinge of regret, not having seen the Lourve at least 3 times, or climbed the Eiffel (because i m too lazy)…but today is not one of those days. Firstly, I am trying my darndest to secure music equipment for Cabaret and most shops seem not to operate on Mondays. One particular store did a great job of answering our call at 9am in the morning and proceeded for the rest of the day, not to pick up the phone. France…have businesses here not heard of answering machines that at very least, let you know that 1) you are on hold 2) when you will be contacted back 3) a clear representation of what their business does and does not do??

France, the Malaysia of Europe - so i have said before. It’s hard to imagine that this was once a super power. My god, the world must have been so undeveloped then. And this is probably my personality that has problems dealing with the gross inefficiencies of this country. Where people whine about the slowing economy, or the lack of jobs, but yet champion for 35 hr work weeks and refuse to open their economy to competition. Irony. It’s a country where timed blackouts happen, except the inhabitants of the building were not forewarned, until it happens and the unabashed response that follows, "C’est comme ca." It’s the very same country where you go into an interview with a French bank and 75% of the interview is about "So, what do you think are the challenges of working in French culture?" (seriously, has globalization hit this country yet?!) or even better, despite telling you that you will receive a response about your candidture in 1 week, there is silence for over 3 weeks…without a peep. That, Is France. In demise, and all the bourgoursie can talk about is their cigars, properties in the 16th while the homeless litter the streets. Where there is little ownership over any business process and where every french person feels entitled….to life, to welfare, to the roads - which result in menacing driving styles, rude service and a general "whatever, it ain’t my problem" attitude. My theory? The lack of care or concern for their economy or their jobs stems from the torrid despondence that has encapsulated this once great nation. Without optimism or equal opportunities, there is very little incentive to motivate people to perform any better or engage positively for continous betterment. And that is where the anglo-saxon model is superior (Sad to say). not that i am a huge fan of the anglo model, but for now, in this instance, it really seems far superior.

am i glad to be leaving france? Yes. I take the efficiency of singapore for granted, where filing a police report is done online or replacing your driver’s license remotely (from france) takes a day, where opening an electricity account is online, paying your bills is automated, where telling your bank that you want your late fees waived where incidently, they will call you in whatever country you are in to follow up on your case. Sure, the singlish accent sucks, but man, when it comes to getting things done and having questions answered, i am glad to be going home. That, and the food. french food is nice but it is also nicely overpriced, as is coffee or worst - Coke. so laksa, chicken rice, nasi lemak, ice kachang, milo dinosaur - here i come. mostly…milo dinosaur - or if i am really daring…milo godzilla (that’s ice milo, with powered choc AND a scoop of vanilla icecream).