i was very surprised to find that xanga has changed the format of blogging. it's very disorienting. i actually had to search for a a while before i found the option to type this blog post.

it's too complicated for me.

Better to be silent and thought a fool...

homerton held its annual law dinner on the 1st of november 2007. it was a black tie event, which meant that the girls were to wear gowns and the guys were to wear tuxedos and bowties (but some literally turned up with black ties).

the event started at 7 pm (although drinks were at 6.30pm), and i reached the event at 7 sharp mainly because my bowtie refused to become one. after half an hour, all i had was a random knot on my neck, so i gave up and used the fake ready-made one which i'm sure brad pitt uses when he goes to the oscars.

anyway.

all the homerton law students were there, from the bright-eyed freshers to the weather-worn third years. our director of studies and a number of our subject supervisors graced the event as well.

one of our supervisors included the regius professor of civil law, who was sitting right opposite me at the long table. i must admit that i have yet to master the art of small talk, but the conversation was going quite well. we discussed the upcoming law moot against oxford (this year held in cambridge) as well as the fact that this year summer had suddenly changed to winter, completely bypassing autumn (you can't go wrong with a conversation about the weather).

then the dreaded moment occured. an awkward silence. i looked to my friend, hoping that she would say something, but she didn't meet my eye. i looked at my glass, but it was empty. the contents of my plate were gone as well.

finally i asked a question (it went something like this):

'professor, how often do you go back to south africa?'

silence again.

'i have never been to south africa in my life.'

'oh.'

oh no.

'but i thought... well, i figured that you were from south africa.'

'goodness, no. i was born and bred in england.'

'oh.'

i'm not really sure what happened after that. but i think the next course came, and i buried myself in my food for the rest of the evening. i guess it wasn't the worst question in the world. many people ask me which part of china i'm from. but it still felt pretty embarrassing.

at least dinner was free.

The Curse of Sri Rampai Station (Part 2)

Click here to read part 2 of the sensational horror fest gripping the nation at the blog of Melawati's Best Left Foot - the asset Beckham wished he had. 

Look out for part 3 at this blog in the near future. :)

The Curse of Sri Rampai Station

it was a dark and stormy night.

'stesyen berikutnya... wangsa maju.'

'next station... wangsa maju.'

i closed my eyes. one more station to go. finally.

'daddy...'

i pretended to be sleeping.

'daddy, i know you're awake.'

dang. i opened one eye.

'yes, dear?'

'why does it take so long to go to wangsa maju from setiawangsa?'

'well... that's because there is actually supposed to be another stop in between: sri rampai. but they closed it, so the train just goes past...'

i paused.

'but, why?'

'that's a good question. i have no idea.'

'oh.'

i closed my eyes again and faked a snore. maybe a snore would pull it off. i could feel zara staring at me suspiciously. 

the train slowed down. ah, i thought. we're halfway there.

the train grinded to a halt.

i sat up.

wait a minute.

the noise level dropped. a moment ago it was buzzing with chatter and gossip. now the soft breeze of whispers permeated the air. an audible gasp from the passengers could be heard as the doors opened suddenly. i held zara close to me.

we were at sri rampai station. 

Bella Italia

just a few pictures from my italy trip (which was months ago).