Posted in Words by Sandra on December 16, 2009

Typo is a new shop in Knox Shopping Centre, next to Perri’s Hair Saloon on the second level. The BF and I had gone to Bar Bosh for breakfast, which is why I chanced upon this shop in the first place. I bought two items from it:

Duck-shaped paper clips and "natural"-look A5 Lined Spiral Notebook from Typo

Duck-shaped paper clips and "natural"-look A5 Lined Spiral Notebook from Typo

I’m not sure if I’ve told anyone what a big fan of paper I am. I love the texture, the cleanliness, the many different colours, and the way they smell. But most of all I love them because, before computers and blogging came about, I used to write every day and night. Journal entries, short stories, character biographies, I wrote anything and everything. Even street directions. Typing on a keyboard just doesn’t compare… until now.

I’ve not written lengthy diatribes by hand for so long now that I can scarcely write more than a page or two at a sitting. And usually, the stuff that struggles out of my pen is so bland that I’m tempted to rip the page out and attempt my imaginary novel anew. The computer just churns text out so much faster, and so much more legible at that. How can my cursive handwriting ever compare to the stoic elegance of separated letters that you, a thousand miles away, can read? (Which reminds me, I have a post card I should make for someone in time for Christmas.)

Well people, if you’re ever in doubt what to get for me and don’t want to ask what I would like for fear that I would give you a list of items far beyond your budget, then a beautiful, sturdy spiral notebook or a nice ink (not ballpoint, they don’t seem to lend to my writing inspirations) pen would be perfectly lovely.

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Posted in Prose by Sandra on September 12, 2009

The German word “achtung” always causes a little cringe of embarrassment in me. I believe it meant “stop” or “danger”, and is pronounced “ahk-tung”. It is a very harsh word phonetically speaking.

When I was working at the Starbucks in Changi Airport T2, I fancied myself a bit of a polyglot. After all, I had managed to sell a bottle of water to a Japanese tourist using mangled Japanese picked up from watching anime (after about 10 minutes of guess-work). I had made it my business to either learn the local greeting of the international traveller I was serving, or to greet them in their language in the first place. At that time I thought it was a brilliant idea so people could feel a little closer to home. Now, I think they laughed because it was a rather WTF experience having this 17 year old Singaporean Chinese speak Japanese or Spanish to them, however badly spoken.

So, the story of “achtung”.

As you might have guessed, it involved German travellers.

I was trying to make some conversation with this family – parents, daughter and son – while they decided what to eat. They told me they were German, and I cast about for any bits of German I knew. All of them were just looking at the menus, at the food display… not paying any real attention to me whatsoever except for the husband, who seemed to be a bit curious about what I could come up with.

“I know only one German word… I think it was achtung!”

Oh, that got their attention all right. And half of the cafe’s, probably. The wife was the one who was most stunned, shocked senseless that this Chinese girl – how dare I – say achtung! in her presence! In hindsight it was probably more disbelief and surprise… though at that moment all I could think of was how to quickly shrink away and hide in a hole.

I still do. I can’t remember what happened after – either I tried to smile and brush it off as me not knowing the meaning of the word, or I ran off to the back room and got someone else to serve them.

Still, I figured that 3 years have passed since the incident, and hopefully they were too jetlagged to bother remembering it. Which is why I thought it was safe enough to put this up for people to read.

If you happen to be part of that German family – I’m very, very shocked for having shocked you in a foreign country in your own language. I’ve repented and never spoken, nor attempted to speak another word of German again.

Not even in private.

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Fantasy Fiction and Stereotypes

Posted in Prose by Sandra on July 12, 2009

Skye has been waxing lyrical over the Wheel of Time series — especially over Lan.

“Oh, Lan, how much I desire thee, to feel thy strong arms envelopeth aroundeth me, to shriek in fan-girlish squeals as, gallant gentleman thou art protecteth me!” she cooed.

Really, I swear she actually said (typed in MSN) it all!

True story.



Ok, maybe I over-exaggerated a tiny little bit.

I’ve been tempted to pick up the heavy series again, but laziness stills my hands. They’re a colossal pain to prop up in bed and while eating with a hand. Of late, I’ve been reading a lot of Raymond E. Feist. The Murloc had introduced me to this extraordinary writer – for the curious, his first book is Magician – when our WoW-centric relationship turned to more RLish topics. (He also claims that he’d tried to order it through Borders Australia so I can pick up a copy from Borders Singapore… which didn’t happen because it can’t be done…?)

So far, I’ve noticed a thing (or three) about fantasy novels/movies. There’s always at least two factions (duh) and more often, three. By factions, I mean cultural factions.

There’ll be the obligatory Western /English society which your primary protagonist (for there can be many) stem from. This society will use terms that are familiar in most aspects, most evidently in their military and governmental infrastructure (ie, Sergeant, Baron). Free will is greatly valued; there will rarely, if ever, be slaves – for most men will be freemen, like merchants and carpenters. Not much store is placed by death – for the most part people of this society prefer life, not death in any form. Mannerisms will be polite but easy without much societal constraints, depending on station.  Clothing will be either conservative or slightly fancy, but never too extravagant. And nakedness is definitely a topic to blush upon. Religion is part of the free-will package, and there’re usually a variety of Gods to choose from. Appearance-wise, these people are usually “average”, like humans, with hair colour typical of Westerners. And similar builds.

Then, there’ll be a society with great semblance to the Eastern society, particularly Japan and Korea. They are the “foreigners” whose customs make sense only to themselves. This society’s language is usually convoluted with societal niceties, and words are often carefully considered before spoken lest it leads to an undesired consequence. When it comes to names for stations, they are usually unnecessarily long and ornate. Slavery is an accepted fact of life, and chances are practically nonexistent for slaves to be freed or climb up the social ladder. Free will exists in two choices when death greets you in the face – death, or the shame of you and your entire family. Honour is (very, very) important, and can be the deciding factor in decisions made rather than logic. Clothing can either be very formal with layers upon layers of robes, or so informal that a sheer short robe is appropriate for lounging within one’s own house… even with guests around. As you can expect, nakedness isn’t as taboo a subject as it is for the Western society “read-alike”. Religion is worship of the Emperor (or in the “…Of the Empire” series, the Light of Heaven), even to the exclusion of gods with temples. These people usually have dark hair and eyes, and slender of shorter build.

The third society would be of barbaric origins. The closest RL example would be tribes. This society’s language range from primal to “normal” (of a Western society’s). Government and military infrastructure range from simplistic to a structure that rivals even the best organized equivalents of their world, with station names of a straight-to-the-point-and-obey-immediately nature. Free will is commonplace – which is probably why there’re so many factions within this society around; half of them are renegades from the original faction. These barbarians, for a lack of a better name, don’t discriminate when it comes to slaves. They can be outsiders or of their own society; they don’t give a fuck. Slaves are slaves, and all slaves do the same thing. Survival is key, and there is no family to speak of, for one could easily turn on members of their own if their life was in danger. One who runs away, lives to regroup and attack another day. Clothing is versatile, they can be sparse or be a varied combination of spoils taken from their victims, but hardly elegant and pretty. Nakedness is probably a way of life… swing on, twig and berries! Their god is whatever god they have for harvest, life, and bloodshed. Of course, that’s simplifying it a whole lot.

Obviously the third society has the most to offer when it comes to variety. Do you want a grunting region of barbarians who barter instead of using currency, but overwhelm the more “civilized” nations with their sheer force and tactical ingenuity? You got it. Perhaps you prefer barbarians who are almost indistinguishable from those of the Western society, apart from their array of materials thanks to their incredible resourcefulness. Or maybe, barbarians who’re actually the most normal of the lot, a people you can actually sympathize with, apart from the fact that they eat babies every full moon. These barbarians usually look a lot more aggressive and dominating than the other societies with their imposing stature and tanned skin, but hair colour can be quite varied. Oh, and unlike the other two, this society revels in bloodshed and living in gloominess. They also seem to have a natural aversion to light (think Romulans of the recent Star Trek movie).

It’s a little annoying to read a fantasy novel series and then be able to say, “These Tsurani people are way too similar to the Japanese!”. It’s almost as if it takes the magic away because you now have a people in real life that you can compare to the characters in the books.

However, I understand that it’s unavoidable, these stereotypes. They help the audience identify with the various characters on a subconscious level, saving the author a great amount of work when it comes to explaining his societies. It’s easier and less complex when you have real life stereotypes to build your fictional characters on, requiring only minor tweaking of the real life counterparts to make your fictional heroes more believable in the pages of your novel. It’s okay.

I’m too tired to argue otherwise anyway… not that I have a good alternative for you, aspiring authors of fantasy fiction novels to come.

For The Toy-Catcher

Posted in Letters by Sandra on April 28, 2009

Dear Charmaine,

I’ve long heard of your prowess at catching toys out of those tricky machines at amusement centres. I am deeply in awe, and every time I see one of those token-sucking creations I think of you.

I was at Suntec City with Skyez last week. We were to have dinner with Ianz at Kuishinbo, which was right next to the arcade on the fourth level. Oh, how it blazed with glittery lights and artless lighting! The machines were lined up neatly all along the walls, with a few circular ones dominating the playing field. As the two of us walked amongst these wealthy giants of shame and doom, Skyez whispered to me that you’d told all of your Friends that were they to see a toy they liked, they could take a picture, note the location, and send the information along so that you could go forth and (attempt to) conquer the Game of Toy-catching.

Apart from the fact that I was left out of this privileged group of Friends (which I suffered well in silence), I was excited. No, I was ecstatic! We danced around the amusement arcade taking pictures of the toys we liked, and I have narrowed them down to these few:

If you could perhaps take a shot at them the next time you are in Suntec City, I would be much obliged and in your horny debt of horniness… much like those Noblegarden Festival rabbits.

Yours with much love (despite the Strong Silent Suffering),

P.S.: It would probably help your bedroom space (and finances) if you lowered the prices of the soft-toys in your shop to a more realistic amount…

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Posted in Prose by Sandra on March 26, 2009

It’s a topic that’s been cropping up in conversations with The Murloc lately. (And also possibly caused by the book I’m currently reading – Linda Grant’s “Sexing the Millenium“.

The question is, why do some homosexuals make their sexual orientation their raison d’etre?

I don’t know any homosexuals on a friendly level (well, one, but said person is very conservative and hence not in the subcategory of people I speak of here anyway), so my conclusion here is very much one of an armchair analyst’s.

Self Esteem

Most people identify their sexual orientation in their mid-late teenage years, which are usually turbulent times for most. I think some decide that they are homosexuals, and as that becomes the only thing that is constant through the years as s/he grows and changes in every other way but their sexual preference, it becomes something of a self-esteem booster that they are reliant on. “I may not know what I am, but I know one thing for sure: I’m a homosexual, and I’m proud of it.” — so much so that they take displaying their uniqueness to an extreme.


In conservative countries like Singapore, meeting someone who declares him/herself to be a homosexual isn’t a regular occurrence. (I’m not saying that it is so in Australia, just in case, but Australia gives one the opportunity to expand mindsets with all the possibilities available here… as long as you’re in here legally.)

Now, imagine for a moment that you are a homosexual. You’re proud of it, and you think people should be more accepting of homosexuals like you. But the fact is people usually aren’t, especially the older generations. So you decide to make your sexual preference a revolutionary action. A move against the traditions which your countrymen escone themselves safely in. You want to do something, to shock people into sitting up straight instead of dozing off and listen to the world changing right before them. So you decide to make homosexuality and identity your thesis, perhaps even publish it. You create a strong bond with other homosexuals – just because you are all just a few people against the majority of “normal” (not that homosexuality is abnormal.)

I Want Some

Or perhaps one is simply so loudly homosexual because one wants to be noticed, to be talked about, and to be in/famous. And then you have a higher chance of getting some.

Note that I’ve written this when I’m 19years and some months old, on this date and day at this time.

I expect that perhaps a decade or two later I’ll come back, read this, and try to burn this post off the internet because I’ve been such a narrow-minded nutcase.