A life as a game

My house fell into a dead silence. I was lying on bed, trying to pole up my eyes to read a book in the wee hours. Two of my housemates flied back to China/Taiwan on the same day. Waving with wishes, I know I have to try hard to get a job before they come back next year. A long hot and anticipating summer is already knocking at the door.

I can still remember this Life Game played in CTG camp. We, as normal people, all have to follow a life pattern – started being a student up to tertiary level, then the quickest way to pull money in is to work as a labourer. After saving up sufficient money, we can then choose either to continue further education or to change another job. Some of us chose to become entertainers, some preferred to queue up for a degree. There are also quite a few of us trapped into the marriage cycle and looking for childcare or a partner. This simple game is a reflection of our life. It is the symbolic of our unescapable faith.

Plan for the future

I always have plan for the future. This year is an exception. I don’t really have anything in mind at the moment. In fact, I can’t have any plans in mind while I am trapped in Melbourne. What my most urgent thing in front is to get good mark form the IELTS test and work hard to earn some money for my reallocation in Singapore.

I am going to apply for both Australia and Singapore PR. Although these two will cost me a fortune and I can’t see the point of getting the Australian one, I have to get it because family’s expectations. Recently, the Australian immigration law has changed to require a resident to live in this desolate continent for three years out of five years before s/he can get the Australian passport. Seemingly, the possibility for me to get the Australian citizenship becomes rare. Anyway, we should all have a plan, but not a determined and stubborn one. Otherwise, a great disappointment may subsist.

There is a patchy from my chest X-ray examination. I have to go to do a further TB test on next Monday. Hopefully, that is just a minor mistake and my PR application can be processed ASAP.

A Melbourne man Van is going to be executed in Singapore this Friday. This news story has inflicted a great dispute among Australian general public and strained the relationship between Singapore and Australia. Everyone knows that Singapore has the sturdiest laws in the world; it relies heavily on these laws to survive as a tiny city-state and makes its prosperity in the past few decades. I have nothing to go against its toughest or inhumanity. It is just a way to survive.

Kitchen Malefic

I am an introvert but appear as an extrovert; I would like to listen more, talk less and work smartly. There should be someone that I can look up to so to motivate my inner competence.

For more than a year, I have not touched the kitchen utility properly. Yesterday, under 28 degree, I went for a big grocery shopping in Footscray with the ambitious to cook an ample meal to reward myself. With one plate broken and cooking powder scattering around on the kitchen floor A LITTLE BIT, dinner was served. Laying out on the whole dinning table, I MISTAKENLY and MISCALUATED cooked enough for five. My belly was round and stuck out, with an over-salted miso taste lingering on the tongue.

Film Review Turtles Can Fly

Contributed by Brad Lacey
10 Nov 05

The best thing about the Melbourne International Film Festival is that you get to see brilliance from all kinds of places that you might otherwise never have looked. Turtles Can Fly, Kurdish filmmaker Bahman Ghobadi’s third feature, is one such example.

Set in Iraq at the beginning of the US-led invasion, the film follows the progress of the war through the eyes of Kak Satellite, a boy who makes do by organising the masses of children – orphaned, homeless, or just aimless – into mine-collecting cooperatives. Yes, this is a foreign world to us, but Ghobadi, aside from a few heavy excursions into the trite rising strings of those special moments, never trivialises it.

Instead, the film’s cinematographic compositions and soundscapes serve only to validate the awkward position between hope and hopelessness.

There are tragedies here but it is the nature of war, and Ghobadi does not shirk the harrowing responsibilities. What’s best though is to finally see a film made from the inside; well-meaning US war critics can make good films too, and have, but none can be as important as a film like this.

Ghobadi’s perspective as a Kurdish intellectual is surely different from the ‘common Iraqi,’ yet one never feels as if the film is preaching. The use of Kak as a device through which to ground the story is both purposefully transparent, and touchingly poignant. These kids, perhaps due to their real-life ethnicities and circumstances, seem in touch with something that is sorely lacking in most Western films. It is a shame that it takes a war to find this poignancy, whatever it is, but it is a credit to Ghobadi for knowing exactly where to point his camera and picking it up every time.

8/10


Brad Lacey is Editor of Rabelais (La Trobe University’s magazine), and is studying for his Master of Arts in Writing and Literature. In his spare time he wishes that he could dance like Fred Astaire.

A day trip to Mornington Peninsula

Flying in a private mini aeroplane, picking up own strawberries, racing in a labyrinthian maze, having tea in a 10-acre country house, and enjoying stunning sunset on a serene beach, Alex, Kate and I experienced a post-exam excursion in Mornington Peninsula on Sunday.

With the help of GPS, Kate and me finally found our way to the Peninsula Aero Club. We were suggested by Alex that we could ride on his Dad’s plane to get a sky-high view of Melbourne coastal line. For the first time flying in such a small plane, I felt I was as wealthy as in the movie Aviation.

The next destination of our itinerary is to the Sunny Ridge Strawberry Farm. Paying a few bucks at the door, we were rewarded with rows of strawberry and the red stain on my white pant as souvenir. On the farm land, I was so excited, busy reaching out for the red skin babe, unresistabily, I scoffed down couples of them into my agog stomach. I ended up with a puffy stomach and a kilo of sweet strawberry savor in my bag.

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."

伤心的时候, 会想念快乐; 迷失的时候, 会希望清醒; 无助的时候, 会寻求帮助; 烦恼的时候, 会明白幸福.

Our house’s Internet had been down for almost a month. It did not really affect me much as I am not a net sucker. When the machine was re-connected to the digital world, the first thing I did was to check up my friends’ blogs. As what I said before, in this fast paced world, a virtual blog plays an important role in constructing a new way of human communication. In this semester, I have been so busy; time was vaporised for school works as well as for dancing. I could hardly find time to catch up with friends. Now, when I have a little more time, I am most eager to find out what my friends have been doing recently.

I have been trying very hard to maintain our friendship, however, I know we are few miles away from the end now. Five years of friendship drifts down the drain, it is indeed VERY VERY VERY sad. I know this will eventually happen at the very beginning: at the time when she told me she did not keep in contact with any friends in GZ merely one year after leaving; at the time she told me she would only glue to her BF when he came. After high school, we chose to walk in a different route. There is nothing wrong with it. For whole three years, we are there for each other, despite we live in an unintercepted life and friend circle. Whereas, after yesterday’s incidents, I felt like we became strangers, whom have no moral supports to each other in any other ways. *tears running in heart*

Friends tilt down the scale on my life balance. For friends, I never expect for return. I like to spend time with them to have fun, without any obligations to take on their lives perspectives. However, for relationship, I expect too dearly. On top of that, I can not get myself out from the past. I fear to fancy my Netherlands. I lose my courage to accept promises. I do everything from heart, therefore, the feeling of heart piercing does nearly kill me two years ago.

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?"? The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs."

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday."

A fight

Mankind needs indulgency, especially after some times of being confined in a strict and stress mode. In spite of summer heat wave is on its way, I still consume tubs of ice cream and packs of chips. Theory of healthy eating and weight watch was thrown out of the window. The kickback was that my stomach was grumbling for the whole night.

I had been being a lazy piggy for the whole Sunday. By the time K came to pick me up for dancing at 5:30pm, I was still in this woozy state from my long afternoon nap. Brain cells functioned even worse after the three double turns routine in Coppa. I went straight to bed again after sipping the aroma of a cup of tea.

Summer-clean was also happening in my tiny paradise. Bit by bit, I put stuffs in order, from bookshelf to under-table station, from the plastic shelf to wardrobe. I feel happy and content to see everything is tidy up.

My first and foremost bid in eBay won! I bought a new pink chiffon dress at a great discounted price. It was a sparkle glittered in my solid brain after a whole day of economic feeding.

Rains were pouring down from the gloomy sky; water was running like tears, draining from my heat to an endless tunnel. I had the first fight with Z. It was not a big deal, I was not angry or anything, but I just felt a bit upset and disappointed with him. I always want to rely on someone completely, whom that I can hand some of my distress to him/her, whom that will not fail my expectations. It is a matter of trust; it is a tie that no matter where we are, we still believe we are there for each other. A couple of years back, I had had similar kind of argument with some body. At that time, I was too tender-hearted to flight back. Subsequently, I did a lot of things I should not do. Gee, I have no intention to go back to all those crap again.

A lunch

It may just probably be me that get tired easily after couples of hours’ concentration study in economics. Last night I was so torn and went to sleep straight back home from library. Shut the world outside my bedroom, I was left dreaming in a catholic church. Today, again, my brain is solid and stuffing. Luckily I had an hour lunch break, sitting in this nice little campus café, exposing my skin under the soother of breezy wind and muching the crunchness of a focaccia.

Story time

Story time

The legal case I dealt with last night was PERINE fine. The story goes like this: a girl presented me a stack of vehicle fines (appro. 20), either parking fine or speedy fine, all are under her name. However, she did not infringe any of them; her mum did them. Unfortunately, the car was registered under her name. To make matters worse, her mum hided all these fine letters without paying any them off. So by the time this girl discovered all these letters, most of them were overdue or gone up to warrant stage. I can imagine that she must be living in a messy relationship with her mum that her mum keeps infringing driving regulations that makes her hold responsible. Mat (solicitor) paired up with me this time. His suggestion was to write another stat dic. to PERINE, requested for a list of fines, and then send another sworn statement to explain the whole situation. There will be two outcomes: PERINE refuses appeal, then she has to go to court; appeal is accepted, she has to go to centrelink for help to reduce the amount of fine payment.

The thought-provoking of this case is the number of fines her mum has got and the irresponsible manner towards her daughter. It is unusual for a normal person to infringe so many fines in a year’s time. There must be another family problem behind this absurd story.

I will soon be promoted to become the Wednesday night coordinator, sharing duty with another Mat. It is not an exclamatory thing. I have to admit that I still have many question marks in relation to legal and communications aspects. Anyhow, moving up is always a good things to be proud of.

Another deligent day of studying at Uni.

Howl’’s Moving Castle

For nearly two months, I have not put my feet into a cinema complex. On the cheap ass Tuesday, I went to watch a not “cheap” movie in Nova cinema, my favourite art house cinema in Melbourne. The movie I watched was a new animate production created by Hayao Miyazaki – Howl’s Moving Castle. Similar to his previous animates, this is, again, a light-hearted movie, with a couple overcame hardship to eventually living together thereafter. Yet, there are certain degree of alikeness from his previous productions – a Kiki’s Delivery Service backdrop situated in Grave of the Fireflies era, a house from the Castle in the Sky, a pet from My Neighbor Totoro, and the enemy from the Valley of Wind. It is a movie that left smiles on my face and a sounded sleep with a touch of sweetness.

Two days working on Mac has already fed me up. Files were having problems when transferred from Mac to my USB. All the blames were unfairly given to the dumb digital device, while I was frustrated with putting all the files into one single electonic box.

Job hunting is far more tedious than writing a research essay. Lina preached me not to be too stringent to load pressure on myself, things will come when it is time. There are still a lot of things I can do after graduating. Take one step at a time; things can not be accumulated in one day.

I had this heart-striking feeling that I went like half-crying, hinging my arms tight around... I wish to put aside my anguish and distress, freeing my heart to fly in the kingdom of heaven.

A straight line plunge in emotional

Connex sucks. Everyone was like refugees, squeezing towards the rail gate after the race on Oak's day. Groaning and screeching, ladies with nice dress and gorgeous hat had to squash with others, bearing with the sweated smell. The rail gate was shut; we could not move anywhere for 20 minutes. When the door was cheerfully re-opened, I was crushed by the crowds. Yet still, we could not get any closer to the platform. “I gave up.” Notwithstanding the frustration, I decided to walk to the tram stop on the other side of the racecourse.

It was this incident that stirred my mind like a pebble threw in a tank. I could not rest my emotion for the whole night last night, neither could today. Something I have to confront can not be put off anymore longer.

To add salt to the wound, I was pissed off by grandma tonight. My mood plunged straight to the bottom. I was going to surprise her with the VCR+DVD device I bought for Grandpa and her; B and Z would come with me to help for set up. I was also hoping that they could initiate a good talk with them, and made them feel less bored. While I was fancying about the day we were there and the lunch we would all enjoy, grandma suddenly called me late at night. She said she did not want any “strangers” to come to her house, for the fear of being burgled. I knew this was ridiculous, yet I didn't want to argue with her because my mood had already been blown to bits. Couples of times already, I was in such a high spirit, imaging the tearing scene, yet all ended up I was in tears for others was blind to cherish my sentiment.

I had a great night on Friday. All the Dancesport people went out for dinner to farewell Jenny. We composed our “dance” version lyric for her using the “life is beautiful” melody after dinner. Rising and falling, bits and pieces of our dance memories flew out in the air, floating with an eternal blessing.

Six of us then drove to Box Hill to play this Laser Game at 11pm. I was not a big fan for such a physical game, yet I had good fun in playing, given that I was not the last one listed in the final score ^_^

After the game, we went to Dave's house for a chat. By then, I was very tired already. When they started watching a Solo comedy show, I fell asleep involuntarily. Comfortably rested in B's arm, I did not wake up until F and the others was about to leave back home. *drowsy head*

eBay

Once a person’s physical energy consumption does not have sufficient supplement to plump in, s/he will inevitably slum into a sluggish state. That is exactly like what I am now. For no reasons, I don’t want to proactively look for jobs. Everything had been well planned in uni, I desperately need to take a break and think for myself. Surviving in this week, the sky will be clear again. Oh well, in some sort of at least.

Last night, I was in the lab with Jenny accompanied. I could hardly put in anything into my project since I was there from 9am. We started talking about shopping clothes online. Soon after I logged onto eBay, we could not stop browsing for nice dresses and skirts. Like most of the other girls, once we hooked onto clothes, we put aside whatsoever is important to us but keep looking, study included. For the night, I bid for a VCR+DVD combo device, which is about $100 cheaper than the retail price. I put in my maximum bid and left, hopefully I can overbid the others and reap this bargain for my grandparents.

A Magnificent win in the Cup

I was starving last night. Despite summer is already at the door, I still went for a big bite of ice cream under the 30 degree weather. That was still not enough. I went back home, scuffed down a couple of scorns, and then indulged myself in the contentment of all these sweets I consumed. The suffering I have to pay back today was a ripple of stomach.

“You are a rich kid after today.” The supervisor said to me after a full day of stifling work yesterday. This might be my last time to work in Melbourne Cup. Next year I may probably galloping my new life in a new world.

Three years in a roll, Makybe Diva had a magnificent win in yesterday’s Melbourne Cup. The sky never turns dark, the dream will never spoil. Melbourne Cup is always Melbournist’s cup of tea with exquisite fashions of hats.

The greatest … Diva delivers three in a row

By Alan Atwood
November 2, 2005

GLEN BOSS was in tears. Tony Santic was high-fiving anyone in sight. Lee Freedman was trying to comprehend what he’d just witnessed.

The one that seemed least excited by all this fuss was the horse that had just galloped into history. The magnificent Makybe Diva.

We will never see her like again. We will never see her on a racetrack again, unless it’s a parade of past champions. For immediately after she became the first three-time winner of the Melbourne Cup yesterday, leading home On A Jeune and Xcellent, she was retired.

She has achieved more than anyone thought possible, and now no more will be asked of her. This was her day. This was her destiny.

Trying to explain what unfolded in Australia’s richest race, jockey Glen Boss used that word often. It felt like destiny, he said. It felt like it was meant to happen; it was a weird, weird feeling.

This was more metaphysical than sports stars tend to be, but throughout Cup Day at Flemington there was a sense of fate unfolding. The roses were predominantly red and white. Throw in some blue and you had Makybe Diva’s colours, seen on caps and masks all around the course.

There was the sign held up for the TV cameras: “Leave It To Diva”. There was the crush of people around the mare’s stall before the race. Then the massed cry in the stands and on the lawns when Boss let her go for home in the straight: “Go Diva!”

Perhaps not since Phar Lap in 1930 has there been such a popular winner. “This one was for you, the people,” said Santic.

The people backed the mare and kept her a firm favourite even as a majority of racing experts swayed by history, perhaps, or the 58 kilos she had to carry, preferred others. The people stood and cheered her back to the mounting yard after the greatest Melbourne Cup win of them all.

She is the best racehorse Freedman has ever seen.

"I don't want to run Phar Lap down but I never saw Phar Lap win three cups," he said.

The mare is up there with Muhammad Ali, the trainer ventured, in the way she transcends sport. Probed further, he mentioned stirring Olympic

victories by Kieren Perkins and Cathy Freeman. But neither carried all that weight on their backs.

To win one cup is amazing, said Santic. To win two is a dream. Three is more than
history.

It was primarily Santic's call to retire the mare, but Boss and Freeman endorsed it. No horse could bow out on a higher note. Yet it almost didn't happen, with Santic revealing late yesterday he was close to retiring the mare soon after her Cox Plate vitory two Saturdays ago.

he pressure of expectations led both owner and trainer to believe they were on a hiding to nothing running her again over 3200 metres. If she lost, the horse wouldn't be blamed. She would try her best, as she always did. But her connections might be condemned for pushing her too hard, especially if she broke down.

Once they were racing, that never looked likely. "It was like deja vu," Boss said, "she was so at ease."

He spoke of seeing what would unfold before it happened. Then he added, as if playing down his own role, "It felt like if I let go of the reins she would still have gone on and done it."

There is a powerful bond between horse and rider. After crossing the line, Boss shook his head in amazement, raised his goggles, then thanked his mount with a caress.

"No one was going to stop her," said Santic. And they couldn't. Vinnie Roe, second last year, was eighth this time. The heavily backed Leica Falcon finished fourth. Despite his brinkmanship about the track (rated "dead" for the cup, then, miraculously, "good" for the next race), Freedman said he had felt that Makybe Diva would be denied a slice of history only if "Bossy" stuffed up. Instead, he turned in a copybook ride.

Surprisingly, this people's victory was witnessed by fewer people than expected, not even close to the record attendance of 122,736 set two years ago, when the Diva won her first cup.

Perhaps some were deterred by predictions of a massive crowd. It is certain, however, that the number of people who claim they were there will swell dramatically over the next few years.

But a great many who did get to Flemington will have a personal record of their close encounter with the mighty mare. After she was led into her stall soon after noon, a crowd quickly gathered around. Almost everyone had cameras of all kinds pointed at stall 75, where Makybe Diva, in shade, was relaxed and ready for her close-ups.

A TV interviewer asked people why they were taking photos. "Because she's an absolute champion," one replied. "I really respect what she's done." A father pushed his kids forward. "What was she doing?" he asked. "Just standing," his youngest replied. Other kids were on shoulders, craning for a look. And almost everyone walked away with slightly goofy looks, as if they had just caught a glimpse of Mona Lisa in the Louvre.

Thirty-five minutes before the cup, Freedman himself helped prepare the mare for the race, attending to straps and buckles. He'd done the same thing last year, but because of appalling weather and lesser expectations, worked in relative privacy. Not so this time. Cameras caught every adjustment. Strapper Christine Mitchell held the mare's head; kept her calm.

Immediately after the cup, Mitchell was crying. So was Boss and also, uncharacteristically, lost for words. But the people, Makybe Diva's people, had found their voices after holding their breath. The mighty mare had come through. She had taken everything on expectations, a quality field, and all the wise heads who felt she had too much against her and left them all behind.

Sustainability

A harmony of fingers flicking and humming from machine fans clicked my brain for a kinky idea – could human sustain a 24-hour work routine without complaining? Machine is better than human in this way, as long as it does not blow up after days connecting to the 220 voltage power route. With dose of artificial energy support, human can extend their energy limit to a certain level, especially when it is necessary to do so. This is exactly what some Melbourne Uni students are doing last night in the 24/7 computer lab, me excluded. I always follow the golden healthy rule, no artificial supplement but a good rest which can greatly contribute efficiency supply of vitality.

How come people exclaimed when I told them I went back home by myself at 2am? Street was dead silent, breeze lightly blowed into my heart; I enjoy spending time with inner self, as long as I don’t need to walk in the middle of nowhere again.

Day light saving started from Saturday mid-night. Sunday was supposed to be the annual Lygon fest. I don’t know if this cultural event was still run this year, as the rumour of short of financial support had been around for sometime. There is nothing significant with the fest, but the fact of having my first date a couple years back is still vividly bounds myself on the day. Under the lovely weather, we were sitting outdoor watching the parade. The fest has changed, so have I.